When a Lion Became a Snake
by jess-a-bear
Summary: Hermione's asked to help the Resistance in an unusual way. When she accepts, she doesn't realize what it will do to her. With major participation from Lucius, and partial participation from Draco and Snape it's going to be crazy. Post Hogwarts
1. The History of it All or At Least Some o...

**Chapter One**: The History of it All or At Least Some of It  
  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, and Warner Bros. And anyone else who happens to have the rights  
 

  
Hermione stood on the cobblestone-landing pad that sat at the entrance to the Malfoy Estates. She was staring at the ominous mansion that stood before her taking in every detail. The sun was setting behind the house, and it gave her the eerie feeling of hopelessness, and being lost. The windows of the grand ballroom were shrouded in darkness, and the bricks of the house that were normally gray looked black in the late afternoon. Hermione thought back to the initial proposal of this…plan.  
  
"We really need you to do this," Dumbledore had said. She was sitting in his office with the rest of the Resistance leaders. Harry and Ron were there too, although they didn't look happy with what Dumbledore had just suggested. Hermione, herself, had doubts.  
  
"You certainly have the mind for it, Miss Granger," Snape said, causing Ron to glare at him. "I don't know how much of it Lucius would believe, but I think the idea of you working with him would be…appealing." The word appealing caused Harry to glare at Snape as well.  
  
"I don't entirely understand why you need me for this?" Hermione said, looking down at the ground, "I mean wouldn't I be better serving the Resistance doing something like research?"  
  
"You will continue to work for the Ministry during the five years it will take us to set you up," Lupin replied he also looked down at the floor. Hermione looked up at Dumbledore, noticing the twinkle was gone from his eyes, _'Well that's a little comforting,'_ she thought, _'at least he doesn't like doing this.'  
_  
"Sir," Hermione continued to look in Dumbledore's eyes, "As much as I appreciate the confidence, I'm not exactly…how do I put this…the seductress you're looking for." Hermione blushed slightly, "And I am Muggle born, I don't think Lucius would want me in his bed." As she said the last sentence Ron let out a little choking noise.  
  
"We have five years to teach you what you will need," Snape replied looking away from Hermione, "And as I said before, Lucius, and Voldemort will be, and are, fascinated by you."  
  
"So we'll just kill Narcissa?" Although Hermione didn't like the woman, she didn't want her to die.  
  
"Yes," Black said simply, "Although it is hard to believe, Lucius truly loves his wife, and he will not take another woman while she is alive. Well…he'll take them and kill them, but he will not confide in them, or take them seriously."  
  
"Well that's comforting," Hermione replied dryly, her tone rivalling Snape's.  
  
"Isn't it thought," Snape smirked.  
  
"No not really, I don't want to do this. I cannot believe that you are even asking me to play this…this game. I'm not a Slytherin. I don't know all the ins and outs of that life, and I don't want to. I don't want to be Lucius' whore, and I don't want to play his game." Hermione's voice rose steadily as she spoke to the point she was now yelling.  
  
"'Mione," Harry said gently  
  
"Don't ''Mione' me Harry," she cried, "I am not a little girl any more-"  
  
"That's right Miss Granger," Snape interrupted, effectively cutting her off, although his voice was no much more then a whisper. "You are _not_ a little girl any more, you are a grow woman with responsibilities. We don't like asking you this, but we have no choice, and we really need your help. As much as I hate to admit it, you are probably the best person for the job. People have to make sacrifices for the cause –"   
  
"That's rich, coming from you," She cut, although her anger from before had disappeared. "I am 20 years old, I see the four of you –" meaning Dumbledore, Black, Lupin, and Snape "–looking at me expecting that I can, and will, do this. I want to help you, but what your proposing is going to take the next what, five…ten years of my life. You are asking me to sacrifice my closest friends, you are asking me to sacrifice my reputation…Am I right to assume no one out side this room will be able to know about this?" Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"All I wanted to do was sit in a lab, or a library, or hell a dungeon, all day and work, and think, and research. I never want to actively fight in this war. On the sidelines sure, but not actively." Hermione looked down at the floor, and the room was quite. The four older men exchanged glance, and Harry and Ron looked at their friend sympathetically, knowing that she was trying to make up her mind, both fairly confident that they knew what she would choose. "I'll do it," Hermione said, as the clock on the wall struck midnight, "I'll do it."  
  
And here she was, five years later, standing on the driveway of Malfoy Manor, about to put the most crucial part of the plan into action. She began to claim the 50 or so stone steps that lead to the door of the manner. Absently thinking that she should have just Apparated to the top. Reaching the top, she paused for a moment, and stared at the large oak door. She shivered slightly at as she looked over the engravings, a multitude of snakes curling, and curving around one another. Mentally shaking her self, she stepped up to the door, which she had to admit, was beautiful, and took hold of the gold knocker. She knocked softly, and waited, praying no one was home. Unfortunately before she had time to finish her prayer the door swung open. Hermione was surprised to see no one standing there.  
  
Unsure of what to do, she put a hesitant foot inside the door. Hermione gasped as she looked around. On either side of her were two long hallways, leading to their respective wings. Each had different antiques lining the walls between the windows. Directly in front of her were two separate staircases, both leading up to the same landing. They twisted up around two arched doors, which were paneled, and a rich green shade. As she watched the doors, the left one began to move backwards, slowly separated from the right one. Getting the game, she crossed the white marble floor, and approached the door. Cautiously looking inside, Hermione caught her breath again, _'Wow!'_, was all she could think. Lining the walls, on wooden shelves, were thousands, and thousands of books.  
  
Hermione stepped tentatively on to the delicate carpet, and surveyed the room, a sort of ecstasy claiming her. She was both stunned and pleased to note that there was a roaring fire in the surprising simple fireplace, and a seat of comfy looking chairs sitting before the fire. She desperately wanted to explore this magnificent looking library, home of Lucius Malfoy or not. _'Well if all goes according to plan Granger…'_ she thought. As she looked around, Hermione heard a low creaking noise coming from the left. Turing her head she saw another door open along the wall. Hermione walked towards it beginning to tire of this game. Nearing the door, she cast one longing look over her shoulder. Then, again taking a deep breath, she stepped into the dark office.  
  
Looking around, Hermione gave a cynical laugh; it was exactly as she would expect it to be. There was a small bookshelf in one corner, stretching out halfway on the two walls. The walls themselves were paneled like the doors to the library had been. Only these were larger, and a dark cherry wood, which matched that of the large desk that occupied most of the space in the room. The fireplace was on the opposite wall to the bookshelf, and was, in Hermione's opinion, overly elaborate. The pale marble that bordered it was out lined with a curved metal frame that rapped around into a mantle, with an over hang to match. Atop the mantle was a crystal vase shaped liquor bottle, holding a brown liquid, with two tumblers beside it. There were no windows in the room, and the fire, which was very low, provided little light. Hermione sat down in one of the dark green leather winged back chairs, and noted how uncomfortable they were. She absently looked over the books, and chuckled as she realized most of them were not reputable. _'Well he must trust me a bit,'_ Hermione thought, _'He wouldn't show me these if he didn't. Or he could want to kill you,'_ a voice, which had a striking resemblance to Severus, echoed in the back of her head.  
  
"I'll do it," She had said again, looking over as the moons and plants moved around the clock. "Now, explain to me, detail for detail, exactly what you want me to do."  
  
Lupin smiled at her, "There's the courageous Gryffindor spirit." Hermione's laugh was shrill, and did not hold much mirth, although she didn't say anything, and so Lupin continued. "Okay, as I've said, you will continue to work at the Ministry, doing your research. Now, as I'm sure you're aware, there is some special training that you will need to receive. Professor Snape will be responsible for the more…colourful parts of that training." Lupin blushed slightly.  
  
"I will say this now Miss Granger, and it is imperative that you completely understand it," Snape said icily. "Once we have started, there will be no turning back. For one thing, this training is very extensive, and if not completed would likely leave you in ruins. And secondly, I will not waste my time teaching some one who isn't serious."  
  
"I get that," Hermione replied just as icily, "I am not in the habit of starting things I do not finish. I am not going to start now."  
  
"Yes, well," Dumbledore intervened, "We all know that you are very stubborn when you put you mind to something Miss Granger, that's part of the reason we chose you. Any way Remus, please continue."  
  
"Right," Lupin started, "You will train with Severus as well as Sirius and myself. We, Sirius and I, will work on you defence skills, specifically against the dark arts, as well as your physical strength."  
  
"You'll be able to defend yourself without a wand, Hermione," Black said, giving her a wide grin.  
  
Lupin chose to ignore this, and continued, "Depending on how well your training goes, you should be ready in two years. However, after that, we have to establish your "discontent" with our side. Now, while working at the Ministry, you are going to have to begin dropping hints that you are no long happy being seconded to Harry Potter. We think that will work best. You can complain about all the fame that he gets, when he couldn't do any of it with out his friends, that sort of thing. What where hoping is that you tell some one under You-Know-Who's influence, and they report back to him. To help make this whole thing believable, you will have to withdraw farther, and farther from Ron and Harry. You're also going to have to spend less time with you parents. We want it to look like you no longer can stand the Muggle world. You should also talk about that.  
  
"Dumbledore is going to work to arrange some sort of public thing were you'll be able to clearly demonstrate your disdain for Harry and Ron. We haven't worked out all the details of that yet, but our hope is that the public display will further convince You-Know-Who, and subsequently Lucius, that you have switch sides – so to speak."  
  
Hermione nodded slowly, "And you think it's going to take at least five years to convince them I'm serious?" The four men nodded. "Will I ever be able to see anybody, or am I just suppose to be alone?"  
  
"Publicly you will almost always be alone." Snape said, "However you will be involved in any meetings that revolve around this plan, and even once I have finished you're training, you and I will have to meet to discuss what's happening in the Death Eater circles and the like. But yes Miss Granger, the next five years will be very lonely."  
  
"What exactly are you teaching me?" Hermione asked.  
  
"You mentioned you weren't a seductress, I'm going to make you one." Hermione's eyes widened slightly.  
  
"What?" Ron cried, his head snapping up to glare at Snape. "How do you plan to –"  
  
"Think Weasley!" Snape smirked, "What do you _think_ I'll be doing?"  
  
Choosing to ignore that thought, Ron turned to Hermione, "And you're okay with this?"  
  
She shrugged, "I kind of assumed that's what they meant. I also assume that he will be teaching the Unforgivables, as well as other dark hexes."  
  
"Correct," Snape said simply.  
  
"Okay, so we establish that I no longer want to be part of the "good" side, yada yada yada," Hermione recapped, "Then what?"  
  
"We find some way to kill Narcissa, give Lucius some time to grieve, and then send you in." Lupin finished. "It's that simple." Hermione raised her eyebrows at the last statement, but again said nothing.  
  
"Well," Dumblerdore said, smiling kindly at the room, "I think it's time we all retire. You three," he pointed to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "Can spend the night in the Gryffindor tower, the is no one there, summer and all. It'll be like old times for you. Tomorrow we will set up times for your first lessons Hermione. But I think we've talk quite enough for one night." Everyone nodded in agreement. "I'll see you all in the morning." The group stood up to leave the room, "Hermione, if I could speak with you a moment longer?" Harry cast a sympathetic look her way, as she stifled a yawn, and then filed out with everyone else.  
  
"Yes Headmaster?" She said once the room was empty.  
  
"I just wanted to say how grateful I am for your participation in this. I am so, so very sorry that we had to bring you into this, in this capacity at least. And I just want you to know that you have my deepest respect, and gratitude; whatever that's worth."  
  
Hermione smiled warmly at the old man, for right know he did look old, "That means a great deal to me, sir. And although I am not entirely convince that I'm the right person for the job, your confidence in me is appreciated."  
  
"Good-night Hermione," He said prompting her to stand up.  
  
"Sleep well Headmaster." She whispered softly, leaving the room.  
  


Last updated November 18th, 2002


	2. Enter: Lucius Malfoy

**Chapter Two: Enter Lucius Malfoy  
  
**

**Disclaimer:** Look to Chapter One  
  


Hermione smiled at the memory, and then turned her head sharply to the door as she heard the knob turn. _'This is it,'_ she thought, as a blonde haired man, clothed in black robes entered the room. Hermione recognized Lucius Malfoy right away, but was surprised to see him followed in by Draco. "Hello my dear," Lucius' quiet voice echoed in the room. "Welcome to my home," he said as he walked around to back of his desk. His black robes swirled around his feet as he went. Draco, who wasn't wearing robes, but had opted for loose fitting black Muggle pants, and a black shirt, Hermione couldn't help but notice, revealed his well-toned body, walked over to the mantle, poring him self a drink. He chose to ignore Hermione.  
  
"Hello," Hermione replied turning in her chair to face Lucius, "I like your office."  
  
"Really?" Lucius asked, although his voice was mocking.  
  
Hermione shrugged, wanting to give the impression that she was comfortable. "It's what I would expect." Draco's cold laughter rang out through the room, causing Hermione to jump. Lucius merely smiled.  
  
"Do not presume to know me, _my dear_." The last two words were full of contempt. "I must say I was rather surprised to receive your request for a meeting." Lucius continued, "Quite the risk you take, coming to my home, mudblood."  
  
"Careful father," Draco remarked, as he took a sip of his drink, "She doesn't like that name."  
  
"Is that true?" Lucius asked Hermione innocently.  
  
"I suppose I prefer that to, say, pureblood, or inbred." Hermione replied smoothly, aware of Draco's persistent gaze on her back. "I hear they're being used as synonyms these days." 

Lucius mouth curled up into a menacing smirk, and for one very long second, Hermione thought that he was going to kill her. But instead, he laughed softly. "Well played, my dear. Draco, why don't you get our guest a drink." It wasn't a suggestion.  
  
"Oh, no thank you," Hermione said quickly.  
  
"My dear," Lucius chided, Hermione was beginning to hate that name, "I insist." She only smiled, and accepted the drink Draco gave her. It took all of her self-control not to shiver as he brushed his fingers along her hand placing the glass there. Hermione was not pleased to see that he took the seat beside her.  
  
"So," Lucius remarked taking a sip of his own drink, which Draco had brought for him, "What exactly _do_ you hope to gain by coming here?"  
  
"Recognition." Hermione responded, using the well-rehearsed answer.  
  
Lucius' eyes narrowed slightly. "And you think you'll get that here?"  
  
"I think you could appreciate my talents." Hermione replied locking eyes with Lucius, and yet painfully aware of how Draco was eyeing her.  
  
"Interesting," Lucius quirked an eyebrow, but did not break eye contact. "What makes you think that I won't kill you once I'm through with you?"  
  
Hermione smiled seductively, "If you wanted to kill me you would have done it already."  
  
"Really?" Lucius said, although the warning in his voice was evident.  
  
"Really," Hermione dared, "You're fascinated by me."  
  
"My, aren't we arrogant," Draco drawled, standing up. "I think I'll take my leave now. See you at dinner, father."  
  
Lucius did not break eye contact with Hermione as Draco left, and Hermione was determined not to be the first one to look away. "Is it wise, I wonder, for you to presume that I could possibly be fascinated by a little girl, such as yourself?"  
  
"Do you really think I'm a little girl?" Lucius' lips curled slightly, "Because I think I could show you that I am not." Hermione stood then, and walked around the desk to stand in front of Lucius. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed his chair back, and flung her legs over his straddling him. She locked eyes with him for a brief moment, slightly grinding her hips into him. Feeling his reaction immediately she stopped grinding. Smirking she leaned forward and bit his earlobe gently. "I told you, you're fascinated by me, my dear Lucius," She cooed, throwing his pet name back in his face. "I'm good for other things too." She then gentle licked his earlobe, and leaning back stood up. "Now, how about you show me to my room?" Turning around slowly, Hermione let her face fall, and clenched her jaw tightly, when she was sure Lucius couldn't see her.  
  
"Pushy, aren't we?" Lucius mocked, as Hermione heard him stand up.  
  
"Well," Hermione replied forcing her voice to remain sultry, "You can show me, or I can just go exploring by myself, which ever you prefer." Lucius chuckled coldly, coming up behind her, and placing a hand on the small of her back. _'Breathe,'_ Hermione told herself.  
  
"No, I wouldn't want you to get lost," he said in a sickeningly paternal tone. "Follow me," he continued, dragging his hand around her waist, and then slipping out the door.  
  
Hermione exhaled slowly as Lucius lead her out of his study into the library, and back into the main foyer. They headed up the right side of the two twisting staircases leading to the second floor landing. The only sound was Hermione's tiny heels _clicking_ delicately on the marble. Reaching the carpeted landing, – Hermione was relieved that her shoes would no longer _click_ – Lucius turned to the right, and directed her down a dimly lit corridor. Hermione reluctantly took in her surroundings. The carpet on the floor was a solid green colour, with a silver and green, interwoven, border. The walls were painted, with a border matching the carpet. Numerous paintings lined the walls, some of landscapes, and others with pompous looking people who turned their noises up as Hermione passed. There was the occasional suit of armour that saluted politely as they walked down the hall. Reaching the end of the passageway, Lucius lead Hermione up yet another set of stairs; this one leading to another corridor, much the same as the previous one.  
  
"It's a wonder more people _don't_ get lost in here, Lucius," Hermione said, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence that had settled between them.  
  
"Yes well, I would advise you not to stray to far from the main hallways."  
  
"Afraid I may stumble across your 'chamber of secrets'?" Hermione mocked.  
  
"Indeed," Lucius replied, although Hermione wasn't sure if he was serious. "Your suite has its own bathroom, and study. You should be quite content there. Feel free to leave whenever you wish, although if you're going to be away for an extended period of time please inform me of what you're doing. And once again, DO NOT go exploring things that do not concern you." Lucius stopped in front of a black oak door, with a brass handle. "Oh, I almost forgot, you may have free range of the library, however, my private study is off limits unless you are with me. Do you understand?" Hermione nodded feeling excited, and Lucius turned around to open the door.  
  
Stepping over the threshold, Hermione cringed inwardly. Everything about her room was _Slytherin_, from the green and silver silk bed sheets, to the green canopy curtains that enclosed the large king size bed. There was a Slytherin tapestry on the far stonewall, with an ornate wood vanity directly underneath. A window was on the same wall, and Hermione was pleased to note that it had a little space to sit in and read. The bed was on her right, with a large cedar cabinet, and a cedar nightstand beside it. On her left were two oak doors, the first one leading into the study, and the second leading into the bathroom. Hermione turned, and smiled at Lucius who was still standing in the doorway, and went to look at the study. It was also a spacious room, with a cozy fireplace, a little sitting area in front of it, and a comfortable looking desk in one corner. The room seemed brighter then Lucius' study had been, although there were no windows, and the fireplace was not lit.  
  
Exiting the room, Hermione again plastered a fake smile on her face, and turned to Lucius. "Do you like it?"  
  
"It's what I expected." Hermione answered, removing her outer robe to reveal a slinky black dress with a dangerously low neckline.  
  
"Meaning?" Lucius drawled, looking her up and down. She had the distinct impression that he was appraising her.  
  
"Meaning, I like the décor." She replied calmly, although she very much wanted him to leave.  
  
"Mmm, so do I." He smirked, closing the distance between them. "Well really, I just like the new addition to it."  
  
"Yes, well," Hermione replied, trying to take a step away from him, and only landing closer to the wall.  
  
"My dear," Lucius said in his most condescending voice, forcing her back all the way against the wall, "Its not nice to tease."  
  
"Was I teasing, Lucius?" Hermione forced out her most innocent voice.  
  
"No," Lucius said, placing a hand on her neck, "I think you were just playing." Lucius slowly began to press down on her throat with his hand, bringing his other one up to help. "I don't like to be played with, my dear." He remarked, as she began to wheeze.  
  
Hermione, forcing herself to remain calm, looked him straight in the eye, and smiled. Reaching her hand around behind her back, she slowly began to unzip her dress. Lucius' lips curled up into an evil smirk as he realized what Hermione was doing. Releasing the grip on her neck, he shoved the dress violently off her shoulders, exposing her breasts.  
  
"Very nice," he purred cupping one roughly, as the dress fell to the floor leaving Hermione completely naked. She hadn't worn any undergarments.

  
"Do you like what you see?" Hermione asked, biting back a desire to scream. She reached one of her hands forward, and began stroking his inner thigh. Causing Lucius to moan softly, as he violently massaged both Hermione's breasts with his hands. Wondering if he would leave bruises there, Hermione forced her self to relax under his touch. She slow brought both her hands up to his robes, and began undoing the clasps. Once finished with that task, she moved her fingers to the waist of his pants, without throwing off his robes. Toying with the belt for a few seconds, she pulled the silk shirt, which had been neatly tucked into the pants, out. Reaching under his shirt, she began exploring his upper body in away she knew he would enjoy, and was surprised to see just how defined he was for a man in his late forties.  
  
Hermione took her time as she worked her way back down towards the belt, and zipper of his pants, realizing as she did this, that his own hands had taken free rein of her body. Unbuttoning the pants, she gave his cock a gentle squeeze. She was vaguely surprised when Lucius stopped his exploration; bring his hands up to her shoulders, and turning them both around so that he was leaning against the wall. Hermione smiled at him, as she saw him there, and he brought his hands up to her head. Entangling them in her hair, he pushed her down in to a kneeling position. Hermione took his pants, and black silk boxers with her. Sighing to give Lucius the impression that she was enjoying herself, Hermione began to run her hand gently over his firm shaft. Slowly she increased the speed and pressure of her hands, until she saw him close his eyes, heard his breath become more ragged, and his hands gradually increasing their grip on her head. Then, she brought her mouth around him, causing Lucius to gasp in pleasure. As she began her rhythmic sucking, she allowed her mind to wonder to her first lesson in an effort not to vomit.  
  


***

  
"Ah, Miss Granger, its nice to see that you remain punctual." Snape said, as Hermione took a seat in his surprisingly bright, and almost cheery living room. The chairs, and couch were fairly modern, with beige leather upholstery. There were various glass tables throughout the room, which only served to add to the moderness of the house. The only indication that cottage belonged to an individual from an old wizarding family was the large, ornate fireplace.  
  
It was two weeks after the initial meeting, and Hermione had been mulling over her decision since that night. Wondering if she would have been better to decline. She certainly was not looking forward to spending an excessive amount of time with her old Potions Master. However, needless to say, she had stuck with her original decision, and had made her way, nervously, to the private residence of Severus Snape. She was surprised to find that he spent the summer months on a small estate outside Hogsmeade. The house itself was a quaint little two-story brick cottage. Surrounding the cottage was a large forest, to allow for sufficient privacy, Hermione assumed. Upon entering the house, Snape had greeted her coolly, and then escorted her into the lovely sitting room, where they now sat sipping tea. Hermione feeling increasingly awkward.  
  
"Yes, well," Hermione replied, "I didn't want to waste you time, sir."  
  
"Stop sucking up Granger," he said sarcastically. "We're not in my Potions classroom anymore. You don't have to be the insufferable teachers pet you once were."  
  
"I find it interesting, _sir_, that you were the only one who looked at it that way." Hermione replied, quickly remembering why she had loathed this man so much. "I was just trying to be respectful."  
  
"Indeed," Snape smirked, causing Hermione to roll her eyes.  
  
"You haven't changed a bit." She said, reaching forward to take a lemon tart off the tray.  
  
"Well that's the first thing were going to work on." Snape replied silkily, his voice dangerously low.  
  
Hermione's head shoot up quickly, "Excuse me?"  
  
"Your propensities to jump to conclusion, and the assumption that you know more then you do. These qualities will not serve you well where you are going." Snape remarked dramatically. "Well actually if played right they could be quite useful, but I do not think, that right now, you are in a position to use them to your advantage, so we will dispose of them for the moment. What do you think of my home, Miss Granger?" Snape asked suddenly.  
  
Hermione blinked in surprise, "Well it's not what I would have expected, sir," she answered honestly, "But I like it."  
  
"What would you have expected?"  
  
"I don't know, something more dark, more Slytherin, more old wizarding family? I am surprised to see such a…pleasant setting." Hermione replied hesitantly.  
  
"A very biased opinion, but an honest one." Snape said his eyes narrowing at her. "Now until you know me better, please refrain from making personal statements about me or my personality."  
  
"Sir?" Hermione was genuinely confused.  
  
"It is dangerous to assume that you know me, my habits, or my tastes." Snape replied bitterly. "In point of fact, it is dangerous to assume that about anyone that you do not know explicitly well." 

Hermione knotted her brow in confusion. "I mean no disrespect, sir," she said tentatively, "But I would appreciate it if you would stop speaking in riddles, and half statements."  
  
"Very good, Miss Granger," Snape replied silkily, causing Hermione to spittle her tea. "Most people would have sat there, and allowed me to rant on like that until they eventually got so confused that they gave up trying to figure anything out." Snape stood up, and began to pace around the room. "Well at least I know where to begin," he said, more to himself then Hermione. "I am going to ask you a series of question, you will answer them all, as honestly, and as quickly as you can." He turned to look her directly in the eyes, "Understand?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione answered looking away, she did not want maintain eye contact. 

  
"Something else to work on," he muttered, barely audibly. "Okay," he said, and resumed passing, "We'll start with something simple…favourite subject at Hogwarts?"  
  
"Arithmacy," she answered clearly and without hesitation.  
  
"Least favorite subject?"  
  
"Divinations."  
  
"Good choice! Favorite professor?"  
  
"McGonagall."  
  
"Least favorite?"  
  
"Trelawney," she answered _too_ quickly.  
  
Snape chuckled, "Good answer, not entirely truthful, but a good answer. Tell me, Miss Granger, have you ever been in love?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione blushed slightly.  
  
"Was it Potter or Weasley then?"  
  
"Sir…" she stalled  
  
"Answer the question, Miss Granger."  
  
"Pot-Harry," she corrected herself, blushing even more.  
  
"And yet you dated Weasley. Quite the scandal." He mocked. "Do you still love him?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Does he know that you loved him?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Did Weasley know?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you a virgin?"  
  
"No, and don't ask who my first was."  
  
"Would you consider yourself sexually experienced?"  
  
"Umm?"  
  
"Yes or no."  
  
"No."  
  
"We'll be rectifying that," Snape's voice was almost amused. "Are you scared of me?"  
  
"Yes, yes I am." She answered after considering it for a moment.  
  
"Good girl," Snape purred coming up behind her, and placing both of his hands on the back of her chair. "Does that fear excite you?" He whispered softly into her ear, causing her to shiver.  
  
"Ye-yes."  
  
"Do I excite you?"  
  
"Yes," this time her voice was clearer, and Snape brought his right hand up to gently stroke the back of her neck.  
  
"Do you trust me?"  
  
"No," she answered softly, and Snape's hand stopped abruptly.  
  
"Interesting," he whispered into her ear, and then pushed off the chair, and began pacing the room behind her again. "We'll begin with trust then," said Snape, sounding vaguely disappointed. "You may go now, Miss Granger. I will see you back here tomorrow night…if that is not too inconvenient?" Hermione shook her head. "As tomorrow is Friday, I would suggest that you pack a bag, and spend the weekend here."  
  
"Alright," Hermione said standing to leave. "Until tomorrow, then," she continued awkwardly as she walked to the hallway, and then out the door. She had stood on the dark porch for several minutes, trying to compose herself, before Apparating home.  
  


***

  
Hermione was brought back by the all to familiar feeling of a man thrusting in her throat, and then coming at the back of it. They stayed there for a few minutes until Hermione slowly pulled her mouth off, and brought her head up to look at Lucius.  
  
"Very good," he said, untangling his hands from her hair, and gently petting her head. Hermione was painfully aware of the submissive dog like position she was in, however, she made no move to change it. "Now, do up my pants." He commanded. Hermione groaned inwardly, but complied with the request. "Stand up," Lucius instructed after she was finished. Again she followed the instructions, and then made her way over to the bed realizing that her services where no longer required. Lucius busied himself with tucking in his shirt, and doing up his robe. As Hermione sprawled on the mattress, she decided not to cover herself, once again wanting to show Lucius that she was comfortable. Lucius smirked at her, when he saw her, "Did I wear you out?" He asked with mock concern.  
  
"If you want to go another round…" Hermione gestured to her naked body on the bed.  
  
"Alas, dinner is in an hour, and I fear that we would run out of time." Lucius replied lazily, as he looked her over. "Perhaps after dinner I will allow you another opportunity to prove your talents. I will be around in sixty minutes to collect you." He headed for the door, "Unless of course you've already had you're fill?" He asked before opening it.  
  
Hermione laughed sweetly at this, "Oh, Lucius, don't be silly, I'm always hungry." Lucius' own laughter was cruel as it echoed off the stone walls of the room. "You'd best get ready. There are appropriate clothes in the cabinet." 

And with that he was gone.

This chapter last updated on November 25, 2002  
  
 


	3. A Wish to be Innocent

**Chapter Three:** **Wish to be Innocent**  
  


**Disclaimer:** **See Chapter One  
**  
  


After Hermione was sure Lucius wasn't coming back, she jumped off the bed, and running to the bathroom, dry-heaved into the toilet. Sitting back, she rested her head against the large tub. Standing up, after a moment, she walked back out into the room, and retrieved her wand, only to run back into the bathroom, and heave again. Once again she leaned back. Pointing her wand at the door, she shut it, and locked it. Hermione then sat on the cold marble patterned tile for several minuets, silently letting the tears fall down her checks. She felt numb.  
  
After a short time, she picked herself up off the floor, and turned on the shower, letting it get as hot as possible, without burning her. She stepped in, allowing the water to run over her for a few minutes before she began systematically scrubbing every part of her body.  
  
_"Hermione,"_ her mother had said, _"You know we'll always be proud of you. We just don't understand why you have to go away."_ Hermione could still remember the look on her mother's face as she explained to her that she would be working on a secret project for the Ministry, and would not be able to visit for a while. Hermione had forced herself not to cry as she had seen the hurt, and confusion in her mother's eyes. Hermione had always had a strong relationship with her mother, and now…she hadn't seen either of her parents in three years. On the day she had told them, her father had just looked at her and walked away into the other room, grunting in disapproval. He did not believe that she should have anything to do with wizarding world.  
  
They still sent her birthday cards, and Christmas presents, but they had no real idea what she was involved in. "Would you be proud of me now, mom?" Hermione wondered aloud, and was shocked by her own cynical tone. This caused fresh tears to spring up into her eyes, as she tilted her head back into the scalding water to rinse the shampoo out of her hair. Forcing the tears back, Hermione stepped out of the shower, and wrapping herself in a large fluffy black towel, with a silver Malfoy _"M"_ embroidered on the left corner. She then went over to the sink, and brushed her teeth for five minutes trying to get that awful feeling out of her throat.  
  
When she was finally convinced she was clean enough, she walked back into her bedroom, and discovered a tiny owl tapping at the window. Opening it to let the owl in, she shivered from the cold. The brown and white bird circled the room once, and then landed atop the vanity under the Slytherin crest. Walking over to the owl, Hermione removed the scroll attached to its' foot, and immediately recognized the Hogwarts Crest. Walking over to the outside door, she locked it, and then leaned up against it as she opened the finger print specific seal.  
  
            _Dear Ms. Granger,  
  
            I hope this letter finds you in good health. I was looking to request a meeting with you tomorrow around one. If that doesn't fits into you busy schedule at your earliest convenience would be fine.  
  
            I look forward to chatting with you again Hermione, and if it isn't too much of an inconvenience, please respond as quickly as possible.  
  
  
_

_Yours truly,  
  
_

_Albus Dumbledore  
_  
Hermione sighed as she read the letter a second time, and then walked into the study.  
  
Sitting down at the desk, she pulled out a piece of crisp, cream colour parchment. It had the Malfoy insignia centred on the top. Getting a quill, she wrote out her reply.  
  
            _Dear Professor Dumbledore,  
  
            I was please to receive your owl, and yes it did find me in relatively good health. I would be happy to meet with you tomorrow at one. Your office I presume. I will apologize in advance if I am a little late, I have some important business to attend to at the Ministry tomorrow morning.  
  
_

_  
Until then,  
  
_

_Hermione Granger_  
  
After re-reading her reply, she rolled it up neatly, and retrieving two Knuts from her robe pocket, attached the letter to the owl's leg. "I hope I can trust you." Hermione said to the owl as she fumbled with its claw. Taking the two bronze coins from Hermione, he hooted, and then flew out the window. Hermione let out a little sigh of relief as she sat down in front of the vanity to assess her appearance. _'Well at least I can get out of here tomorrow,'_ she thought standing up again, and going to the cabinet. Opening the shinny cedar doors, she chuckled as she looked over the contents. There was an assortment of formal wear all in gold, and burgundy. "Typical," she said, as she shuffled through the dresses. She finally selected a gold one. It was a matching bodice with a long flowing skirt, both in a soft silk material. She also picked out a pair of delicate strapy gold shoes.  
  
Sitting down, again in front of the vanity, she cast a drying charm on her hair, which caused it to form in to spring curls that rested just past her shoulders. Deciding that she wanted something dramatic for her make up, she paled her face, and then applied bronzes and golds to almondize her eyes. She also added a delicate bronze blush to accentuate her checks. Seeing the results, she was thankful that she had taken the time to perfect these charms before beginning her "mission". Resigning to the fact that it was time to get dressed, she slipped into the delicate fabric, slightly revolted at how much she enjoyed the feel of the silk against her skin. Looking at the clock, she realized that she still had twenty minutes to wait before Lucius decided to grace her with his present, and so she went to unpack.  
  
Moving over to her robes, Hermione retrieved a small bag from an inner pocket, and tapped her wand on it to return it to its normal size. Picking up her clothes bag, she brought it over to the cabinet, and placed it inside. Then going back to pick up the larger of the two duffle bags, she walked into her study. Heading to the bookshelf, Hermione levitated the books she had brought with her on to the shelf ("The Malfoy's: A Semi-Complete Biography", "Malfoy Manner: A History", "Voldemort's: How to be Evil"). She then put some of her Ministry work on the desk, and noticed with a start that Dumbledore's letter was still sitting there. Cursing her self for being so careless, she quickly re-read it, and then promptly destroyed it. Walking out into the main part of the room, Hermione placed her diary on the nightstand, and just as she was about to start writing about her day, she heard a faint knock at the door.  
  
Hermione stood-up quickly, checked herself in the mirror, and then walked slow to the door. _'Dare to make a man like Lucius wait,'_ she heard Snape's voice in her head. _'He'll hate it, but will be intrigued by your defiance.' _Taking his advice, she stood by the door for a few minutes, before opening it slowly, only to find, instead of Lucius, Draco standing there. Hermione caught her breath, and for a moment was unable to say anything, as Draco looked her up and down carefully. Recovering slightly, she gestured for him to come into the room.  
  
"No," he said, in a deep gruff voice. "We should get to dinner, Hermione." He added her name with contempt; although she could tell that he was trying to be civil  
  
Hermione nodded slowly, "Where's your fa- Lucius?" She asked, deciding against father, she didn't want to be reminded of who he really was.  
  
"Meeting with our dinner guests," Draco replied, offering his arm well toned arm to escort her. She was again caught off guard by the polite move.  
  
"Thank-you." She said taking his arm as they started down the hall. "Who's coming to dinner?" She asked forcing herself to be polite.  
  
"Oh," Draco sighed impatiently, "Some people you will find interesting, I'm sure. None as famous as Mr. Potter, but of almost equal notoriety."  
  
"Who'd want Potter at the dinner table anyway?" Hermione answered smoothly.  
  
"Interesting!" Draco replied letting go of her arm, and placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her down the stairs. Hermione cringed inwardly.  
  
"What?" She asked innocently, looking over her shoulder at him.  
  
"Don't play dumb, Granger," He snarled at her, all civility dropped. "I find it impossible to believe that you could ever hate the "wonderful" Harry Potter." He allowed his voice to become shrill as he said the last two words.  
  
"Things change, Draco," Hermione replied coolly, dropping the flirtatious attitude. "I was a little late to realize he could never offer me the opportunities I can get from Lucius."  
  
"_My_ _father_ does not like to be used," Draco stated firmly as he moved in front of Hermione to lead her all the way down the stairs instead of into the hall that her and Lucius had taken earlier to get to her room.  
  
"Perhaps you should think of it as a business arrangement then." Hermione imitated Draco's drawl perfectly, causing his back to tense slightly. "I am fairly confident that's how your father views it."  
  
Draco forced out a cold, and calculated laugh, "I never thought you were the type to take payment on _those_ services rendered." Draco commented lazily. "Although I never admired or liked you, nor could I even respect you; at one time I gave you a margin of credit for your integrity. But you obviously did not even deserve that." Draco laughed again, and it echoed loudly off the high ceilings. He again extended his arm, and the two walked down the main floor hallway in silence.  
  
Although Draco would never have guest it from Hermione's demeanour, or actions, he had truly struck a nerve. Since her first lesson, Hermione had been desperately trying to find her morals. She had been fighting an increasingly confusing battle with herself as she endeavoured to logically justify everything that was going on. She wanted so very badly for there be an easy solution to her constant moral dilemma, and yet no one had successfully presented one to her. She kept telling herself over and over again that she was doing this for the cause, and that everyone was counting on her, and whatever seemed right at the time. And now as she walked down this outrageously decorated hall, with her arm entwined with Draco Malfoy's none of these reasons were good enough for her.  
  
Her morals had been questioned by some one who killed Muggles for sport. She desperately wanted to crawl back to her room, and hide in there until the first opportunity presented its self for Hermione to escape. She so badly wanted to walk out of this house completely innocent. '_Well even that's not possible anymore. Now is it?'_ Her inner voice chided cruelly. She wanted to go back to her once boring research, and spend the rest of her days behind a desk. And not for the first time, she wished to be completely innocent, and completely free of the suffocating weight she felt on her slender shoulders.  
  
Yet, she did not scream, or try to run. She instead held her head high as Draco lead her though another set of ridiculously ornate doors down around the centre of the hallway, and into the formal dinning room.  
  
______________________________________________________________________________

  
  
**Author's Notes:** I would like to again thank my Beta's Alex and Stephani who worked very hard to get this chapter up to par.   
 

This was last undated on December 1st, 2002


	4. When Friends of the Family Call

**Chapter Four: When Friends of the Family Call  
  
**

**Disclaimer: Look to Chapter One  
  
**

Stepping into the large dinning room, well banquet hall would have been more appropriate, Hermione blinked to let her eyes adjust. The room was completely deserted. She glanced at Draco suspiciously, as he led her to the head of the mahogany table, and motioned for her to sit down on the left of the head chair. "The others will be joining us shortly." Draco said as he pushed her high-backed chair in closer to the table. "Can I get you a drink?" He walked over to the buffet table.  
  
"Sure," She replied looking down the table, and seeing it was set for five. Wondering whom Lucius would have invited to dinner, Hermione leaned back in her chair, taking in the room. Above the buffet table where Draco was standing, there was a large gold-framed mirror, which reflected a renaissance fight scene tapestry on the opposite wall. The table setting consisted of silver plates with imprinted snakes curling into the Malfoy "M". The cutlery was also pure silver.  
  
"What would you like?" Draco asked, causing Hermione to jump as his voice echoed through the high ceiling of the room.  
  
"Oh…umm…" Hermione stuttered, "What ever you're having."  
  
Draco chuckled, "Alright," he drawled, as he turned his back on her. Hermione glared at him, as she noticed the firm muscles in his back contracted while he moved to pour two drinks.  
  
"What, exactly, do you hope to gain by being here?" Again Draco's voice echoed in the hall, although this time it was barley more then a whisper.  
  
"As I told Lucius, I want recognition for what I contribute. I'm tired of living in Potter's shadow."  
  
"Really," Draco replied, setting Hermione's drink down in front of her.  
  
"Yes, really," Hermione answered sarcastically. "Thank you," she gestured towards the drink, "What is it?"  
  
"You tell me." Draco smiled sweetly, "Back in the day you claimed to know everything."  
  
"Ha," this time it was Hermione's voice that rang out in the room. "I've changed Draco."  
  
"That much, my dear-" _'you asshole,'_ Hermione thought as Draco mimicked his father, "-is obvious." Again Draco smiled at her as he walked around the table to take his seat directly across from her. Hermione took a sip of her drink. Allowing it to roll slowly over her tongue she locked eyes with Draco.  
  
"Scotch blend, Ballantines, 30 years old," Hermione remarked triumphantly. Draco's lips twitched upward, "I'm surprised Draco, I didn't think you would spend that much on me." Hermione commented, her voice slightly mocking. Watching his eyes, Hermione realized they had taken on that pure unbridled hate he had so often shown her at Hogwarts.  
  
Debating whether or not to look away, she was saved from the difficult choice as the large doors open and Hermione turned to see them admit Lucius followed by two people that Hermione did not recognize.  
  
"Hello," Lucius drawled across the dinning room at them, "I trust everything is going well." It was phrased as a command, more then a question.  
  
"Of course father," Draco replied, standing up; Hermione remained seated. "Hello auntie," Draco turned to the woman Lucius had walked in with. She was a tall and slender woman in her mid-forties with long red hair that was tied back in a high ponytail. She had on an elegant strapless white dress, which fell to the floor around her feet. The colour made Hermione want to laugh.  
  
Draco walked up to the woman and gave her a quick hug. "Draco dear," She said, and Hermione immediately realized that she was Narcissa's sister. "How are you?" She continued.  
  
"Well." Draco replied stepping away, and shaking the gentlemen's hand, "McClure," he said curtly, the other man nodded at Draco, and turned to Lucius who moved up the table towards Hermione. McClure was a well-built man, who reminded Hermione of an older Oliver Wood.  
  
"I would like to introduce you all to a...special friend of mine," Lucius said, indicating Hermione, who chose to ignore the introduction. "Hermione Granger, this is my former sister-in-law, Celina Cypress, and her escort, Tommy McClure."  
  
"Good evening," Hermione replied, deciding to stand and shake hands, "How are you?" She asked stretching her hand out to McClure. As he took it, Hermione forced back a smirk, as he looked her up and down suggestively.  
  
"Good," he said releasing his vice grip, and stepping back from her. Hermione continued to smile politely as she turned towards the bored looking woman.  
  
"I love your dress," Hermione said, as she embraced the woman, noticing Lucius' chuckle.  
  
"Yes well," She said, critically looking over Hermione, "We can't all wear designer fabrics."  
  
Hermione smiled sweetly at Celina, silently debating whether or not to hex her, "I know," she replied instead in an exaggerated voice, rolling her eyes. "Which reminds me," Hermione was proud of how flighty she had made her voice sound, "I forgot to thank you for the dress…Lucius." Hermione emphasized the last comment to make sure that Celina understood exactly what had just been said. She was pleased to see Celina back away slightly, and force out an innocent smile.  
  
"La-dies," Lucius said mockingly, drawing out the word, "Tut, tut." Then turning to McClure, "I suppose I will have to separate them, if we plan to enjoy their company for the whole evening. Why don't you sit beside Miss Granger, and Celina you can sit beside your nephew." Celina, again, smiled sweetly at Lucius, and walked around the table to where Draco had pulled out her chair, much as he had done for Hermione. McClure took the seat to Hermione's right, as instructed, and Hermione decided that he looked a little too happy. Trying her best to ignore it, she move to sit back down, as Lucius pushed in her chair, and leaning down slightly, whispered in her ear, "I wish it was you I was having for dinner." Hermione chuckled softly, trying not to shiver as his breath blow over a particularity sensitive spot on the back of her neck. Righting himself, Lucius took his own place at the head of the table.  
  
"So how do you know Lucius, Mr McClure?" Hermione asked the man on her right.  
  
"Please call me Tommy," He requested patting her arm in a friendly manner. "Lucius and I are old Hogwarts buddies, and we still run in the same circles."  
  
Hermione nodded politely as she let a small smile touch her lips, "That would have been an interesting seven years."  
  
"Meaning?" Lucius asked looking at Hermione, his tone harsh.  
  
"You two, plus Snape, Potter, Lupin, Black, Pettigrew…Merlin, it's a small wonder that no one ended up dead."  
  
"Some came very close," McClure replied with a smile matching Hermione's.   
  
"So how long do you plan to impose on Lucius generous hospitality, Miss Granger?" Celina asked from across the table, the contempt in her voice evident.  
  
Hermione's laughter filled the room, as she turned to face the Celina. "Generous is not a word I would use for Lucius, and please call me Hermione." Celina glared at her, and out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Lucius watching her carefully. She sombered up quickly. "I'll be here for a while, I'm sure. We-" She indicated Lucius with her hand, "- haven't really talked about it." Hermione looked defiantly at the older woman, and held eye contact with her for several seconds, only looking away as Lucius clapped his hands, and the soup appeared in front of her. Hermione delicately picked up her spoon, and began sipping from it, grateful for the distraction.  
  
"Lucius," Celina said, her shrill voice causing Hermione to almost chock on her food, "This soup is just wonderful."  
  
Lucius smiled pleasantly, "Thank you, occasionally the House Elves put on a good show."  
  
"Some of the best work under you," Celina agreed.  
  
Draco, too let out a cynical laugh, "That's certainly one way to put it."  
  
Lucius looked between him and Hermione quickly, but decided to ignore the comment. Instead he turned back to Hermione and in his most condescending voice said to her, "Miss Granger here feels that House Elves should be liberated. Don't you my dear?"  
  
Hermione looked at him for several seconds, and then allowed her face to focus into a large grin.  
  
"What can I say?" She replied looking away from Lucius, and down the table at the rest of the group. "I sure we've all done miss guided things in our youth." _'There,' _she thought, _'you wanna play that game Mr Malfoy, we'll see who comes out on top.'_  
  
McClure chuckled at this, "How true," he said, "How true."  
  
"Well," Lucius remarked, "Some of us are stupider then others." The comment was thrown out for the entire table, yet Hermione had the distinct impression that it was directed at her.  
  
The table remained silent for a few moments, as the dinner guest finished up their soup. Hermione kept trying to come up with something witty to say to Lucius' statement, but everything eluded her, and eventually the moment passed. "Wait a minute," McClure said, causing Hermione to jump, "Hermione Granger, as in Hermione Granger that was best friends with Harry Potter?"  
  
Hermione looked down at her bowl, in an effort to seem embarrassed, "Yes," she replied hesitantly, "I'm the one."  
  
"Another one of those 'foolish mistakes' I'm sure." Lucius chided.  
  
"Ha, I'm sure your just dying to get close to Potter," Hermione said. "In fact, I'm willing to wager that you would give anything to be in the position I was."  
  
"And why is that Miss Granger?" Lucius drawled, "Why would anyone want to be in your position?"  
  
"Gee," It was Hermione's turn to be condescending, "I would have though it would be obvious to you. I mean really, Voldemort's second in command, and you can't figure out why being close to Potter could work to your advantage?" She paused for a second, wanting to give the impression that she was thinking, when in reality she had been waiting for an opportunity like this to present itself all night. "I'm beginning to think that I may have chosen the wrong side." Saying this, Hermione was pleased to note that Draco was having trouble controlling his jaw, and Lucius was looking at her seriously for the first time since she had walked in the door.  
  
"I beg you pardon?" Celina asked, she too was gapping at Hermione. McClure seemed unaffected by the conversation.  
  
"Well, obviously your little group needs to work on its strategy if they ever hope to bet Dumbledore. I'm sorry to say it but Voldemort-"  
  
"Enough," Lucius' voice rang though the hall with such force that as it echoed back the unused forks clanked against one another. "I will not have some Muggle born, little girl talk about my Lord. You are not in any position to give military advice."  
  
"I thought we established that I wasn't a little girl," Hermione replied quickly, and absently noted that McClure looked up at the comment. "And it's a pity that you won't take advice from some Muggle born, it must make your Death Eater meetings with Voldemort quite trying." Hermione smiled smugly to herself as she saw Lucius' eyes darken in understanding.  
  
"What?" Draco said as he glanced between his father and Hermione, his brow knotting in confusions.  
  
"Don't you know?" Hermione turned to face Draco with her most innocent expression.  
  
"Know what?" The impatience in Draco's voice was evident; however, Hermione liked the idea of playing with it a little bit.  
  
"Oh, perhaps I shouldn't be the one to tell you," Hermione turned her expression into one of remorse.  
  
"I – Father what's going on?"  
  
"Yes, I wish someone would tell us what is going on, I'm afraid I am terrible confused." Celina commented, as she too was looking between Hermione and Lucius. Again, McClure seemed to be the only one uninterested.  
  
"I though everyone knew," said Hermione sounding shocked, and realized that her performance would have made even Snape proud.  
  
"Would somebody please tell me what the hell is going on," this time Draco's voice was more angry then anything.  
  
Realizing that the game was up, Hermione looked again at Lucius to see if he was going to make a move to stop her. However, he appeared to be lost in another world, and so Hermione turned back to the people across from her.  
  
"Lord Voldemort's Muggle born." Hermione watched as Draco's eyes widen, and his face convert to complete shock, Hermione was vaguely aware that this was the only real emotion she had ever seen Draco express, asides from hate.  
  
"I don't believe you." He snapped, his expression semi-recovered.  
  
"Tom Riddle was a Muggle, and he was Tom Marvolo Riddle's father." Hermione said calmly. "I Am Lord Voldemort is an anagram for Tom Marvolo Riddle." Both Draco and Celina just stared at her. Hermione could almost see the wheels in their heads turning, (well the wheels in Draco's head anyway) processing this new information. "Although you don't have to take my word for it, just ask him next time you have the pleasure of his company." Hermione's inner self was jumping for joy, even if they didn't believe her, she had still planted a very convincing seed.  
  
Deciding that she had done enough damage for the evening, Hermione stood. "Well, I think its time I retire. I have an early appointment tomorrow." Hermione turned and headed to the door, "Good night everyone."  
  
"My dear," Lucius called as Hermione opened the large oak door, "I'll walk you to your room." Lucius stood up.  
  
"Oh, no need for that. I'm sure I can find my way their on my own." Hermione declined politely not really wanting to be in an angry Lucius' presence.  
  
"Oh, no, I insist."  
  
"Alright," Hermione leaned up against the door, as she realized that there was no arguing with his tone. As Lucius walked to the door, he clapped his hands, causing the forgotten soup bowls to disappear, and delicious looking green salads to appear in their place.  
  
"Start with out me," Lucius said to the table as he took Hermione's arm, "I shouldn't be too long." He then opened the second dinning room door, and him and Hermione walked out into the hall, with the heavy doors closing loudly behind them.  
  
"Are you trying to fuck me?" Lucius asked Hermione as they approached the stairs. They had walked in a heavy silence for several minutes. Hermione smiled at Lucius seductively.  
  
"The thought had crossed my mind."  
  
"Ha," He turned to glare at her, "This is not the time for your little games." He stopped abruptly causing Hermione to stumble as he pulled her around to face him. "Do not," He roared bringing his hand up to slap her face, "Ever defy me like that again."  
  
Hermione glared back at him, "That was not defiance," she replied stroking her cheek, "That was informing people about something that they have the right to know."  
  
"While you are a guest in my home, you will refrain from assuming that you have the right to 'inform' people of anything."  
  
"But Lucius," Hermione protested, "I though Voldemort was all about knowledge, whether it be good or bad." She tilted her hand in confusion, "I was under the impression that information, and knowledge, and…and…everything worth learning was open to me if I joined his ranks." Hermione turned her face away from Lucius, and looked down at the floor. "I thought that, although the Death Eater do some…disturbing things, that deep down they believed that knowledge was power. Perhaps I have chosen the wrong side."  
  
"Foolish girl," Lucius said, although his tone was a lot less harsh, "You are right of course," Hermione's head shot up in surprise, "Voldemort is after knowledge, and the power that comes with it. I apologize for getting so angry, it just that Voldemort wanted to tell his other followers about his parentage on his terms. I fear he will be displeased with you."  
  
"Oh, well, please offer him my sincerest apologizes. I wish I had known that it was a special surprise…" Hermione bit her lip, "Oh I feel so terrible."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Lucius said, placing his hand underneath her chin, and lifting her head up to face him. "We've all made mistake, as you so delicately pointed out. Our Lord can be very forgiving at times."  
  
Hermione smiled at Lucius, but not for his comforting words, _'This is going better then I thought, he's got to know that he's playing right into my hand.'_ Hermione's smiled faltered, but only for a second before she recovered. "Thank you Lucius," she said, kissing the hand that still held her chin, "I appreciate the support."  
  
Lucius' lips curled up into a crude smile, "Don't kid yourself, I will not take the blame for you, nor will I protect you from Voldemort, you will have to answer for yourself."  
  
Hermione nodded her acceptance of this, and then turned around to walk away.  
  
"Where are you going?" Lucius grabbed her arm to stop her.  
  
"To bed," Hermione said, and turned her head to elaborate, "I can't possible face everyone after how stupid I've been. Please," she pleaded, "Let me go to bed."  
  
Lucius smiled at her, "Alright," he agreed, "I will see you tomorrow. Now what's this about your appointment?"  
  
"I have to go to the Ministry, I do work there you know."  
  
"Yes, of course. What time will you be home?"  
  
"Home hey," Hermione smiled at him, "Around five thirty."  
  
"Fine, I will see you then." Hermione smiled at him, and, again, turned to walk up the stairs.  
  
"Good night Lucius," she called over her shoulder.  
  
"Good night my dear," he drawled back, "Oh, and Hermione, nice dress."

Chapter Last Updated: 03/02/03 

  
**Author's Notes: **A special thanks to my Beta's Stephani and Alex who took time out of their all to busy schedules to edit this for me. 


	5. The Congenial Severus Snape

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Chapter Five: The Congenial Severus Snape

Disclaimer: See chapter one

Hermione had rounded up the stairs, and was walking down the corridor to her room before she let herself chuckle. "That was perfect," She mumbled to herself, "Absolutely perfect." The minute Hermione had sat down at dinner she had been waiting for an opportunity to present her little _nugget_ of information. And then, like he had been reading from a script, Lucius had said all the right things. "Oh Draco," She let out another laugh, as she stepped inside her room. Leaning back against the door, she finally let her guard down. "How could Lucius have been so gullible? 'Knowledge is power'…Merlin, I don't even believe that bullshit. Not when it comes to Voldemort, anyway." _'Of course,'_ Hermione conceded, Lucius believed that he was also playing her. In fact she had been banking on it. 

Severus had told her that Voldemort had given Lucius specific orders to keep her interested in their side. This put Hermione in a very advantageous position. She could get away with just about anything, as long as she could present Lucius with a reason to justify her 'defiance'. Lucius couldn't openly support Hermione when she did things like tell Draco that Voldemort just _happened_ to be part Muggle, but if she could justify her action, give Lucius an easy way out, she would be safe. _'That was almost too easy,'_ she mused. As much as Lucius had to keep her interest, that didn't stop him from yelling at her, or even demanding retributions for the trouble she just caused him. _'Well,'_ She thought, _'I'll talk to Severus about it tomorrow, I'm to tired to figure it out now.'_ She gave a quick sigh, as the picture of Draco's oh so scandalized face popped into her head once more.

Pushing herself off the door, she walked over to the Armour, undressing as she went. Opening the doors, she extracted her duffle bag, and pulled out a blue flannel nightdress, and slipped it over her head. Then she turned and went into the bathroom. Ten minutes later she emerged feeling all to ready for bed. 

Standing next to the bed, she pulled back the covers, and propped the pillows up against the cherry wood headboard. Hermione then turned to her night table, and removed the diary that she had been forced to leave when Draco had arrived to pick her up. She allowed herself a brief smile as she looked at the book. It had been Severus who had suggested that she write about what she was doing so that it would be easier for her to stay in character. Hermione leaned her head back into the pillows as she stared at the black leather bound book. Her eyes glazed over as stray thoughts entered her mind. Although as the strands came together, they were not random at all, but of Hermione's second lesson from Severus. 

Hermione traveled up the Heritage Stone walkway that lead to Snape's cottage, wishing that she didn't have to spend the weekend with him. She hadn't slept well the night before; she kept hearing his voice echo in her head, _'We'll start with trust then.'_ All Hermione wanted to do was go to her home, and sleep. She was in no mood, or state, to deal with Snape, and the last thing she need was for him to see her weak. Which is why she couldn't cancel, and that's why she was gently knocking on the door hoping that once she got inside, he would show her to her room, and forget about her for the rest of the evening. 

"Hello Miss Granger," Snape's silky voice cut into her thought as he swung the door open. Hermione looked up to see him framed in the doorway, looking down his crooked nose at her.

"Sir," Hermione responded curtly, determined not to look away from his gaze.

Snape back away from the door, and gestured for Hermione to enter. "Let me take those," He said politely reaching for her bags, and starting up the stairs. Too startled by Snape's almost kind gesture, Hermione followed him up onto the second floor in silence; wishing that the only sound was not her feet making a gentle pitter patter across the hardwood.

Hermione let out a grateful sigh as the she stepped on to the white Ber-Ber carpet that covered the second story. To Hermione's right was a long white wall, occasionally broken by three separate paneled white doors, and doorframes. To her left was a similar set up, the whites wall completely bare. The only picture, if it could be called that, was on the wall directly in front of the stairs. It was a large, and obviously very old tapestry with the Slytherin crest on it. Snape noticed Hermione eyeing the thing, and he smirked at her. "It doesn't really fit, I agree," He said, startling Hermione both by the fact he was talking, and how accurately her had perceived her thoughts. "I had to have something that symbolized Slytherin, and indicated a pureblood wizard. I thought it better to kill two birds with one stone." Hermione just nodded, and followed Snape into the third and finally room along the left side of the upstairs. 

"This will be your space whenever you stay here." The "space" Hermione had been given was a spacious one. The first thing she noticed, after the size, was that the room had been decorated in very neutral beiges, whites and taupes. She liked it. Directly across from her was a north-facing window that had the vertical binds drawn – size: one inch – and with the absences of any light outside, Hermione could see her own reflection in the window. The bed, which had a comfortable looking down comforter resting on it, sat flush against the west wall. A large pine dresser adorned the same wall, a few feet away. On the opposite side of the room there was a corner-angled fireplace, which had simple unfinished rough marble as a border. Two cozy looking chairs sat in front of it. Beside the fireplace was a desk, in a wood that matched that of the dresser. A few feet away from the workspace was a door, which Hermione presumed lead into a bathroom, or another guest room. She was about to state her theory out loud when she realized with a sharp pang that she had been told explicitly not to presume, and decide to keep her mouth shut. Instead she walked over to the bed as sat down to allow Snape to continue. "I want you to be comfortable in my home," He spoke as he set Hermione's bags beside the dresser. _'Just how long, or how often, does he think I'm going to be staying here?'_ Hermione wondered, and she had the distinct feeling that she would be anything but 'comfortable'

"The lavatory is through that door there," Hermione nodded, a triumphant voice inside her announcing to herself that she had been right. "I won't have other guest for the duration of your training, and so you may leave anything in there-" he indicated the bathroom "-or in here that you do not wish to pack every time you leave."

"Thank you, that will be most convenient," Hermione replied politely.

"Yes well…" Snape paused briefly as if unsure of what he wanted to say next. "There is another guest room on the other side of the lavatory. Feel free to check it out, and if you prefer that bedroom, you may make use of it instead." Hermione nodded. She had a feeling that that had not been what he had wanted to say. "The other side of the upstairs in my private study, bedroom, and bath, if you like I can show you them after dinner. I would, however, appreciate it if you did not go into those rooms without my knowledge. The rest of the house is yours to enjoy." Again Hermione nodded, she was surprised that he had offered her a tour of, what she presume – there was that pesky word again – to be, his private domain. "Anyway," Snape continued in the same even voice that he had been using all evening, "Speaking of dinner, it should be ready in about fifteen minutes. I will leave you get freshened up. I assume you can find you way down to the kitchen on your own?"

"Yes, thank you, I'll manage."

"Good, I'll see you downstairs when you're ready then."

"Did you make it?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"What?" He craned his neck to look at her form the doorway where he was standing.

"Dinner! Did you make it?" She repeated feeling a fit of giggles about to bubble to the surface.

"Yes," Snape replied shortly, "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No, no! Not at all." Hermione answered smiling.

"Wonderful," Snape drawled, "I'll see you in fifteen minutes." He pulled the door closed behind him.

Hermione, her earlier tiredness forgotten, burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole idea, Professor Severus Snape, the most loathed teacher at Hogwarts, was making her dinner. What's more, he was making her that dinner in his home, his private summer cottage, in fact. Tears were streaming down Hermione's cheeks in rapid secession, and if she were one to indulge in the irony of situations, this would have bordered on gluttonous. Breathing out quickly to calm herself, Hermione stood from the bed, and went to the bags she hadn't bothered to reduce for the short trip. Quickly she put the few items in the appropriate draws. Taking her toiletries bag into the bathroom, she allowed herself a quick glance in the mirror, and insuring that she did not look too offensive, exited both rooms in search of the kitchen. 

When she reached the bottom floor, Hermione turned to her left; heading in the opposite direction from the room that her and Snape had…talked in yesterday. She realized that her deduction – based mainly on the sounds, and smells, of cooking – had, indeed, been right. The bright, artificially, light of the kitchen could be seen from were she was standing. As Hermione walked down the hall, she passed a dinning room that was shrouded in darkness, although she was fairly certain that it would be much like the rest of the house; surprisingly tasteful, and understated. Entering the kitchen she saw that it also matched the major theme. Well all except the tall man standing at the modern Muggle stove in long black, perfectly tailored, robes, stirring something that smelled absolutely delicious. 

"Here's what I don't get," Hermione said taking a seat on one of the metal stools at the breakfast nook, noting the small square tiles and wood boarder that was the counter top. At her remark Snape turned away from the pot, although he had not been startled by her arrival, and handed her a large tumbler of red wine. He nodded for her to continue. "Why –and don't take me the wrong way –is your house so bloody modern?"

"Surprised?" Although Snape's neutral expression did not change, the smirk was evident in his voice. 

"Obviously," Hermione replied impatiently.

"I find old castles quite drafty," He shrugged, turning back to the white, but obviously marble counter, where he was slicing vegetables for a salad. "And the old architecture gets more then a little depressing after a while."

"Alright," Hermione conceded after considering for a moment, "I can give you those. But why would you want a fridge, and a stove, and florescent lights? And," She added as an after thought, "How exactly do you get the electricity to work out here?"

Snape chuckled softly, "You still haven't curbed that inquisitive mind of yours; have you?" Hermione glared at his back, but remained silent. "To answer your first question, I don't employ house elves, and I prefer to cook without using my wand. I like my food unspoiled. It is much easier to uses the amenities already invented then to come up with clumsy substitutes my self. In response to your second question, a bit of 'foolish wand waving'–" _that_ brought back some memories "–is quite useful in powering these machines. My home is located far enough away from Hogwarts, and Hogsmeade, and most other establishment, wizarding or otherwise, for their magic not to interfere with mine."

"Oh," Hermione replied stupidly, "So you had this place specially built then?"

Snape nodded, "Although if it makes you feel any better, I do own a rather large estate complete with gothic castle. I use is for large parties, or anything that has to do with my business with the Death Eaters. I just prefer to live here. Besides," He added, craning his neck to look her squarely in the eyes, "That castle has too many places to hide."

Hermione shuttered slightly, and reached down to take a sip of her wine to calm herself. "Well," Hermione said lightly, "I'm glad we got that cleared up."

"Indeed."

And then the awkward silence that seemed to stretch on forever, as Snape finished his culinary preparations, and place a heaping plate of pasta with a side salad in front of her. Eating dinner only made the silence a little more bearable, and Hermione noticed that she seemed to be the only one who was uncomfortable, as she glanced up to see Snape chewing thoughtfully. This realization made her fish desperately with something to say, and eventually come up with, "Don't you use your dining room?" Snape turned to look at her, completely expressionless, and when he made no move to answer the question Hermione added, as way of explanation, "It's just when I came down from upstairs, I saw one, and thought that we would eat in their."

"Tsk, tsk, Miss Granger," Snape drawled lazily, setting down his fork, and taking a slow sip of his wine. "I do believe, if memory serves, that I mentioned yesterday that you were no longer suppose to assume anything."

"Well…it's…it was just–" Hermione stuttered trying to explain herself.

"Get into the habit of doing what I tell you when I tell you. Without me having to tell you it twice, Miss Granger." Snape interjecting effectively cutting her off, "It will make this considerably more efficient."

"I wasn't trying to make a presumption, sir," Hermione infused the last word with every ounce of sarcasm she posed, "I was just making conversation."

"Be that as it may-" Snape did not change his tone "-you will do exactly what I say, and you will make an effort not to challenge me."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, and set her own fork down with a loud clunk, "You're loving this aren't you. Sitting there all high and mighty and telling me what I can and cannot do. Well I'm sorry, Professor, it just doesn't work that way. Not anymore! I'm not one of your simpering first years, and I will not follow orders you give me without question."

"Yes you will," Snape replied as his voice took on a dangerously, low, silky tone, "You will do exactly what I say. And if you think that this is anything resembling _fun_–" Hermione was sure that she had never heard anyone say that word with more venom then Snape just had "–then you are no better then one of _my_ 'simpering first years'."

"That's not fair," Hermione replied slightly hurt.

"I see, and you thinking that my idea of fun is letting you into my house, and showing you my private world, and teaching you the things that I'm about to teach you is the embodiment of fair?" Snape shook his head, his voice turning snide as he continued, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Miss Granger, but I don't sit around in my spare time and come up with cunning plans to corrupt innocent young girls like yourself."

"No I suppose you don't," Hermione replied with equal venom. "I _imagine_ that you sit around fretting about what hors d'oeuvres are best to serve with a side order of rape and torture for your next Death Eater party. 'Here Lucius,' I _imagine_ you saying, 'have some fresh spinach quiche as you watch your son dismember that delightful little Muggle. I find that the rosemary in the recipe only adds to the experience.'" 

Snape look at her carefully, locking eyes before he said, in a calm voice that only served to further unsettle Hermione, "_Now_ who's the one being unfair?"

Hermione grimaced at his words, regretting what she had said immediately. More because she knew he was right then anything else. "You're right, and I'm sorry," She murmured quietly a moment later. 

"Yes, well, do what I say, and we will not have a problem." Hermione clenched her jaw at that, but said nothing. She had the distinct feeling that he was trying to pick a fight, and she had no intention of giving him what he wanted. 

Having lost her appetite, she picked at what was left of her dinner, decidedly not looking at Snape, until he waved his wand to clear everything away. "What can I say," Snape said lightly, obviously seeing the inquisitive look that Hermione could not conceal. "Now," He continued, he continued briskly, "Yesterday you mentioned that you did not trust me; has you sentiment changed since then?" 

"Not exactly."

"Alright, what would give you reason to trust me?"

Hermione thought for a moment, a wicked grin spreading over her face, "You could sing karaoke." 

Snape blinked at her, several times. "What?"

"It's a Muggle form of entertainment," Hermione explained. "An individual gets up and sings the lyrics to a popular song with the original music as an accompaniment in front of a large group of people. It's quite wonderful."

"Yes, I'm sure it would be." Snape ground out. "So you expect me to sing, for you, and that would make you trust me."

"No," Hermione admitted, "But it would be absolutely wonderful to see."

"Miss Granger, if you are not going to take this-"

"I know," Hermione interrupted, "I was joking, I don't actually expect you to sing for me." She paused for a moment, debating the most effective way to put her next statement. "Look, there's nothing you could do exactly that would specifically gain my trust, I just have many years of prejudice to work through. I'll get over that soon, and yes I know that it's childish, but it's the truth."

Snape looked at her for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, "Alright," He said, "Well I suppose we can try and dispel those prejudices. I hope that I've done a bit of that by now."

"Yes, of course."

"Alright," Snape said slowly, standing up, and motioning for Hermione to follow. "Lets go have some dessert shall we?" Hermione complied following him into the living room.

Sitting down on the same couches that had occupied the day before, Hermione rested her head against the back of the chair, and closed her eyes briefly. "Tired, Miss Granger?" Snape asked as he held out a cup of tea for her. 

Bring her head up, she nodded, and took the saucer from him, "Thank you." 

Taking a sip of his own tea, Snape nodded curtly, "Alright," He said, as if he had reached a decision, "I want you to ask me anything."

"Uhm?" 

"Turnabout is fair play, Miss Granger, and I had the _privilege_ to interrogate you yesterday, so you can do the same now." Snape's voice was toneless.

"Okay," Hermione said slowly taking a sip of her tea, and then setting it down on the coffee table trying to buy herself some time. "Umm…-" Hermione felt her eyes flicker towards his left forearm. "Anything?" Hermione asked, her voice taking on a new confidence. Snape nodded, raising an eyebrow at her, as if in challenge. "Why were you a Death Eater? And…and why did you leave?"

"I'm impressed Miss Granger," Snape replied, a neutral, impassive, expression forming on his features. "You still go right to the heart of the issue." Snape's gaze flicked passed her, and he sat staring out the window for a moment. "Alright…Hermione–" she was startled by the use of her given name "–if you're sure?" She nodded, and he began.

"I don't really remember my mother; I was about two when she died. I do, however, remember that she used to smell of jasmine, and every time she would gather me in one her hugs, I would get this subtle scent of it. After she died, my father did the best he could. His own childhood had been less then perfect, and many things, for him, stemmed from that, included his less than paternal nature. He was very strict with me, and did not tolerate disobedience. Not to say that he was a bad father, he never beat me, and he rarely raised his voice, he just commanded respect. He was very much involved in my life; our family's wealth allotted him that privilege. He spent many painstaking hours teaching me about potions, and how to fly. Him and I used to pass many a day throwing around the Quaffle in the back yard. He also took the time to teach me certain things about Muggle society. You see my father was a great supporter of Dumbledore. Because of his years in Slytherin, he understood the prejudices that were afforded to Muggle born witches and wizards although he was never stupid enough to put any stock in them. Personally, I think that came from a need to rebel against his own father, who was somewhat like Lucius Malfoy, although Markus Snape had no one like Voldemort to follow. In an effort to prevent the prejudice gene for arising in me, he thought it was best to expand my knowledge, and so my education before Hogwarts was quite…extensive. I loved him very much, and he loved me in his own way. However, he never told me as so, and I never told him how I felt either 

"I was happy to go to Hogwarts, I viewed it as a opportunity to prove my abilities to my father. I wasn't disappointed. Now I know this may come as a surprise, Miss Granger, but I was quite popular in school. At least with the Slytherins, and I am quite sure that some of the Ravenclaws appreciated my talents also. I was able to bring in a lot of points for the house through my various academic endeavors. I was also renowned for various pranks that I came up with. The Weasley paled in comparison, I should probably mention that my pranks were never particularly vindictive, and they were never intended to hurt anybody, and wouldn't turn that way until much later in my life. Anyway, my first year was very successful, I was convinced that my father would be very proud of me, I got second in the class as well, only falling behind a silly Gryffindor girl: Lily Evens. However when I got home, my father instructed me to sit down in the chair in front of his desk, and asked me why I had let some girl beat me. 'Severus,' he had said, 'Never settle for less then the best.' The problem was, I had achieved my best, but at my eleven years did not allow me to stand up to my father, and instead found me up in my room spending my first day of summer vacation think how I could do better. 

"My second year followed a much similar pattern as my first. I was on my house team, as a Chaser, something that I hoped would make my father proud, he was in part responsible for me being their after all. However he only commented on the games that Slytherin lost to Gryffindor, the only team that beat us, and never on the many victories that I helped achieve. My dislike for James Potter started sometime in my second year, I hated only because he was a Gryffindor, and only because, in my mind, gave my father another reason to criticize me. However I didn't hate him enough to seek out revenge or anything, I would just brood. My second summer was drastically different form the first. I still hadn't beaten Evans, and this time, my father went over each individual mark I had, as asked me why I had only managed an 80 in transfiguration, when I was obviously capable a 95, like my potions mark. From this he decided that I need extra practice, and implemented a strict schedule for me to follow to review much of the second year syllabus, and get a head start on my third year. 

"Thus my resentment started. I had a lot of time to think redoing lessons that I had already done, and so in that time I decide that it was not only my fathers fault that I was stuck, it was also Evans' and Potter's, and his insipid friends, who I decide that I didn't like simply because they liked him. I was quite righteous in my anger, and I plotted ways, that I would never execute, to get back at them. I may have been in Slytherin, but I didn't really want any of them dead. Third year was a blur of Quidditch matches and unimportant tests. My resentment towards Potter, Evans and my father deepened; it festered into an unhealthy bout of childhood angst.

"Because I was, well, popular, I had a number of close friends, particularly Robert Tulus. We would have been like Potter and Weasley, virtually inseparable, up to our fair share of mischief. I had the _pleasure_ of spending my third summer there, and _that_ would be a decision I would regret for the better part of my young life. Robert had parents that virtually worship the ground that he walked on. In short, they dotted after him, entertaining his every whim. I hadn't quite realized how 'bad' his parents were until I spent some time with them. In that month I spent with him and his family, I saw what it was like to have parents, and indeed a family that did not guard it's every move and gesture. A family that did not guard it's every emotion. I resented my father even more, and vowed that I would never become him. I decide, during that month that I would do everything in my power to push my father away; make him regret how hard he pushed me. 

"With my new mission in mind, the next four years at Hogwarts would be, in hindsight, a disaster. My father wanted me to win Quidditch matches: I gave less then my best until they kicked me off the team in my sixth year. My father insisted on me exceeding in school: I dropped down the ranks, virtually to the bottom. In my seventh year, I would, however, prove that it was on purpose by getting some of the top scores on my NEWTs. The year before I started at Hogwarts was the year Lord Voldemort first made his presence in the Wizarding community known. By my fifth year there were many supporters of Voldemort residing in Slytherin, and a few in some of the other houses. My father supported Dumbledore, so naturally I would support Voldemort, or at least become chummy with his followers. I was quite charming, and found that I had little difficulties finding female entertainment. Slytherin girls are more then attracted to the less reputable boys in the house. 

"I found new reasons to hate Evans, Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew. The plots I had devised in my second year were refined, and put into action, ensuring that they would come to hate me as much as I hated them. I used polyjuice to set them against one another, I set them up to be found by teachers while they where out during midnight excursions. The Whomping Willow incident was their way of getting back at me. I'm not entirely sure what made Potter decide to back out of the prank, but fortunately for them, and myself he did. As for Robert, he would never see my 'decent into darkness'. His parents work for the Ministry and were relocated to Africa at the beginning of the fourth year. He and I sent the occasional owl, but he would never know what I had become.

"So what did my father think of my new personality? Not a hell of a lot. He would lecture me endlessly on how I was throwing my life away. He would tell me that he forbade me to hang out with my new _friends_. He told me that I had not only disgraced him and myself, but I had disgraced the family. I can't say I was particularly moved by his speeches on right and wrong, good and evil. I made certain that he had no control over what I did, and that he got the message that I no longer respected him, or what he stood for. I continued to chum around with my friends, and I continued to get in trouble. 

"About two months after I had finished school I received a letter from Voldemort asking me to come out to one of his Death Eater meetings. Unfortunately my father found the letter before I had made my decision; I was still living with him. After he found the letter he came storming into my room and demanded to know what I was doing corresponding with the Dark Lord. 'It's none of your business,' I told him. 'God damn it, Severus,' he bellowed. He and I would argued about it for a while, and then, with all my eighteen years of worldly experience, I turned to him, and very calmly said, 'Fuck you dad', and went to become a Death Eater. As I was walking out the front door, that day, he told me in no uncertain terms that I was no longer welcome in his home. 

"My turning to Voldemort for support, at the time, seemed like the only logical thing to do. I had a little money saved and so I rented a flat, and went to Voldemort's meeting. I was not overly impressed with what I saw there, but I really had nothing better to do with my time, and I was running short on cash. A few weeks later I had the Dark Mark burned into my left forearm, and was actively plotting strategy with _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_. For some reason he took a liking to me, perhaps because I was not there solely to kill, and rape Muggles. Anyway he gave me my choice of assignments, and had me do various research for him. I am, in fact, partly responsible for his return, he would not have continued to exist had I not found potions that would protect him, and prolong his life. Lucius was in much the same position as myself. Him and I became friends during my last four years at Hogwarts, and through our shared responsibilities, continued that friendship during my two and half years of service to the Dark Lord. In a lot of ways I was happy to serve Voldemort. He was good to his followers, at least in his first reign, and he greatly appreciated my talents. I never liked the midnight visits to the homes of Muggle supporters, I knew a lot of the families from Hogwarts, and I never developed the same taste for killing them that a lot of my fellows did. Nonetheless, I stay with him; in my mind I had nowhere else to go.

"Then one night in January 1981 I met an old friend of my, Robert. I hadn't spoken, or written to him since I'd left Hogwarts, and there he was being dragged out of the Malfoy Manner dungeons to stand before Voldemort. He struggled to his feet as he was thrown at Voldemort's feet, and I watched as the Dark Lord offered him the choice of joining his ranks, or dying. I watched Robert look the most feared wizard in the wizarding community right in his beady little eyes, and laugh. 'As much as I appreciate the offer to join your pitiful little following, I think I'll take my chances with…well anyone but you.' I then watched as they tortured him for half an hour before he died. It was then that I was struck with an epiphany: I was giving my life to a man who would let me die if it would gain him more power. I had let my best friend die, and I had killed many others, and I didn't even believe in the cause I was throwing my life away for. 

"With that revelation I did a little bit of soul searching, and decide that I couldn't live with myself if I continued to be a Death Eater, and so I went to Albus. I told him everything, and when I was done, I expected him to give me a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Imagine my surprise when he offered me away to not only stay out of prison, but also to redeem myself. He offered me my current position at Hogwarts, and told me that I would be used as a spy for the Resistance. In my more honest moments–" she had obviously caught him at one, "–I will admit that I enjoy my role. I like mind games, Miss Ganger, and I like manipulating people.

"During the nine months after I joined the resistance, I saved some lives, not all, but some. I was unable to save the Potters, and believe it or not, but I did try. For the next thirteen years, my life existed in a delicate balance. I could not give myself away as a former Death Eater, nor could I betray my loyalties to Dumbledore. Part of my hatred for the young Mister Potter was an act to keep Lucius from suspecting what I really was. I needed Harry Potter to hate me, and Draco Malfoy to love me. I played the role well enough so that when Voldemort rose again, I was able to assume my role as his _faithful_ servant, and have been playing the part even since."

Hermione stared at him for a few moments wondering what to say. A multitude of things were running through her head. Not the least of which, "So you became a Death Eater because you where an angst ridden teenager?" She asked incredulously. 

"I'm sorry if you were expecting something more romantic, more tragic," He snapped back, "But for the most part, I was just angry and stupid."

Again Hermione sat in silence. This story repeating itself in her head, "So how do you feel about it now?" There was no judgment in her voice, just a genuine curiosity. 

"I don't hate myself," He replied, tonelessly, "if that's what you're asking, I'm not quite so spiteful as I let on. But I do have to live with what I've done. Every day."

"I was just wondering what it would be like for me, after…well…you know what I mean."

"Indeed, I do, Hermione," Once again she was startled by the use of her first name, "But what your doing is not something that you would have chosen to do otherwise. If anything, your conscience would be more burdened if you had refused."

"I doubt I'll see it that way when I'm moaning Lucius name." She grumbled.

"No, perhaps not. Although it was not meant to be comforting."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, pausing for a second as if considering something for the first time. "So if you take responsibility for the incident with the Whomping Willow, then why do you hate Sirius, and Professor Lupin so much?"

If Snape was surprised at the change of subject, he showed no indication of it. Instead, he nodded as if impressed that she had mentioned it. "As I said it was important that Potter think of me as the enemy. I would never have let the Dementors at Black, not after I had heard the story, but I had to make you all think that I would. As for the matter of Lupin's resignation in your third year, Potter was never supposed to know who Lupin was, or his relationship with Potter's father. Once he found out who Lupin was, it was decided that Lupin had to leave. It was easier for Lupin to say he was going because I told my students he was a Werewolf, instead of saying that Potter couldn't have contact with him. It also helped my act." 

"Why couldn't Harry know who Lupin was?"

"That is something that even Potter does not know, and thus something that I cannot tell you. Not right now, at least. I'm sorry"

"Oh," Hermione replied, "Alright then, why were you even at the Shrieking Shack?"

"Because I believed, as does, the rest of the Wizarding community, that Black had indeed killed the Potters. It was like I said that night, I had seen the map in Lupin's office, and ran out to save you. Noble I know." Hermione grinned at the smirk on his face. "I initially thought that Lupin was in on the plot, helping out his old friend that sort of thing. I also knew about your time turner, and knew that you would be able to save Black once he was brought in. I of course took full credit for his capture, ever the loyal Ministry subject."

"So it was all an act them?" Hermione asked slightly surprised. 

"Not all of it. I genuinely don't like Black, and I can't say that I'm Potter or Weasley's biggest fan, and until recently, you certainly had a spot on my least favorite peoples lists. But, I suppose, for the most part, it was."

"Well," Hermione said, forging lightness, "It's nice to see that I'm learning from the best. Granted I already knew that."

"Indeed," Snape briskly brushed off the complement. "Now is there anything else you want to know?"

"No," Hermione replied quickly, "No I think your life story is good for one night."

"I agree, now, I think it would be a good time for you to go to bed. You have a long day tomorrow." 

Hermione nodded in agreement, standing up. Walking towards the stairs, she stopped in the doorway. "Thank you," She said, turning around to face the man sitting comfortable in the large chair. "I know that must have been difficult for you, and I appreciate the trust you have bestowed upon me by sharing that. I'm sure it was no easy for you, and I assure you that I will tell no one."

Snape nodded his head, again looking impassive. "Good evening, Miss Granger."

***

The rest of that weekend had lacked any major revelation. Hermione and Severus had developed a sort of intimacy without actually being intimate. Severus had planned various trust games they could engage themselves in. Including making mystery potions for one another, and putting each other under the Imperius curse. That had taken a leap of faith in itself, and Hermione could still remember what it was like to have somebody control her every move. It was emotionally draining for Hermione, and although she couldn't be certain, she was fairly confident that it had had the same effect on Severus. When she had gotten home to her own flat that Sunday night, she had soaked in the bath tube until she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore, and then crawled into bed, deciding that for the most part, the weekend had been a success. If nothing else she had found a new respect for her old Potions Master, and from respect came trust. 

And she would eventually trust him completely, the Hermione of the present knew. As she had been reliving the past she had completed her journal entry for the day. Her favorite part, being her gushing praise of Lucius' "overly large masculine member". _'Well,' _she figured, she wasn't about to stress over whether or not her diary entries were eloquent. She had enough on her plate as it was.

Blowing out the candle beside her bed, Hermione rolled over into the middle of the large bed, and cuddled up to one of the full body pillows she had found. She quickly fell asleep. 

***

  
Next Chapter: A meeting at Dumbledore's, with Lupin, Black, Snape, things are bound to get out of hand.

Authors Notes: I'm very sorry that it took me so long to update. I would like to blame it on FanFiction, but that would just be lying. I hope that I kind of make up for it with the length of the chapter, it is by far, and I stress that, the longest. Once again thank you to my wonderful betas Stephani and Alex, they do a wonderful job (sometimes) and I appreciate them taking time out of there overly taxing lives to help me out. Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed for Chapter Four, Sienna of Lothlorien, Viola girl2, god_is_canadian, lily_bear, jumping bean, Helena_handbasket, Fiery Slut.

As for my take on everyone's favorite Potions Master. I don't necessarily think that the books imply that Snape was particularly well liked at any point in his life, but for the most part all of our information has come from Sirius, and so it might be somewhat biased. Besides, I get bored with Snape being this self-loathing man who hates the world, and the majority of the people in it. So I decided to do something different. I do, however, think that he would have been well liked by his fellow Slytherin's, and if he was jealous of James' Quidditch abilities, as Lupin says in the Shrieking Shack in the third book, then it is equally likely that he was on the his own house team. Also, I figure Snape was acting with Dumbledore's knowledge and consent at the end of the third book when he tells the Slytherins that Lupin is a Werewolf. If Snape wasn't he would have been jeopardizing his own job, and I doubt Dumbledore would stand for that type of spitefulness being demonstrated by his teaching staff, unless of course it was with his consent.


	6. A Meeting of the Minds

**Chapter Six: A Meeting of the Minds**

**Disclaimer: See chapter one**

"Oh for fuck sake," Hermione swore as she tripped for the ump teenth time on her walk up from Hogsmeade. She had spent the morning at the Ministry running tests on a mysterious virus that was showing up in some of the Aurors sent to work in various parts of Eastern Europe. Thus far it had killed five, and left about twenty in the hospital waiting for the cure. It caused the Aurors to have hallucinations; they would then loose their memories for a period of time, how long depended on the individual, after which they would appear to be completely normal before they would just stop breathing. What made it _so very special was that it was only affecting the Aurors, for now at least, and it had absolutely no affect on the Muggle population in the area What's more it did not seem to be magical in origin. The virus, which Hermione was now __affectionately calling the Auror's Darwin, seemed to be a mutant strand of something, but she had yet to discover what that __something was. She had been asked to look at the chemical components of the virus because of her Muggle background, and because she had dealt with this type of thing before. Well, not some strange killer virus, but she had broken down various potions to their basic elements through the use of Muggle Chemistry. _

This morning had been more frustrating then normal. Hermione had thought that she was close to a break though only to find that the strand had once again mutated, something that it did periodically. She had also had an _oh so pleasant visit from her boss informing her that she had another two weeks to make something of the Formidilosus Virus (it had been less then affectionately dubbed that by the Ministry), or they would give it to some one else. "They need answers, Hermione, this virus has cause quite the scare" Mr. Cass had said, looking at her neat notes through his bifocals. "I don't want to pull you from the team –" as always there was a group of anonymous Ministry personnel working on the project "–love, but if your work doesn't show some results, and soon…we just can't afford to spare the people if they're not making progress." Hermione had been quite put out by this little announcement. True, her heart, and more importantly her brain, were not completely focused on finding something useful, but she'd never been pulled from a project before, and she didn't want to start now._

So the last thing that she wanted to do was take the long hot walk up to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade. She understood the need for extra safety at Hogwarts, and in most cases she would agree with it, but right now, she would have given anything to Apparate right into the school, or at least on to the grounds. Hermione sighed loudly as she approached the now overly familiar side door that she used on all her visits to the school. Whispering the password (Salmon USA), she entered the dark cool corridor that would take her directly to Dumbledore's private study, where all the Resistance meetings were held. Although in _casual conversation it was called the Headmaster's office, in truth it was far too risky to meet in there. Even though the school was all but disserted. Hermione still did not disarm her invisibility spell, nor did she take off the charm concealing her footsteps until she was safely in Dumbledore's study. As Severus was always saying, 'Stealth is key,' or some such thing. The point was that no one could ever know that Hermione was at Hogwarts, and she was, as always, taking every precaution to ensure that. _

Hermione opened the door (It was keyed to certain individual's entry) at the end of the long passageway, and stepped, thankful, into the small, bright office, where Dumbledore, Severus, Sirius, and Remus were waiting for her. The office itself was far more…reserved the Headmasters "public face". It had cherry wood paneled walls, a large desk, and various, comfortable, chairs scattered about the room. The perfect size fireplace was located across from the large bay window. It was a homey space that Hermione enjoyed very much. "Hello," she said, disarming the invisibility charms, as she took a set in her customary chair by the window. "Nice to see you all again," She couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

Severus examined her closely from across the room, "Long day?" 

"Something like that," She replied acidly, and won her self a sharp look from Sirius.

"Is everything okay?" Sirius asked, he too looking at her closely, only his expression held more concern then Severus'.

Hermione smiled, and tried to calm herself, "Sorry," She said, "I had a long morning at the Ministry. The project that I'm working on isn't going so well, and I was told I had to come up with something soon, or they are going to pull me." 

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked gesturing to one of the candy dishes on his desk.

Again she smiled, "No, no thank you."

"What is the project, Hermione?" Remus asked softly.

"Oh, I'm working on isolating various components of the Formidilosus Virus." 

Severus looked at her sharply, "Why did you not mention this before?"

"I got the assignment after our last meeting." Hermione replied defensively, "I didn't think that it was that important, and so I didn't make any effort to contact any of you."

"How far have you gotten with your work?" Severus' voice was very sharp.

"Obviously not very." Hermione met his tone, "If I'd made any progress they wouldn't want to pull me form the project. Why the third degree about it?"

"Because, the virus is suspected to have links to the Death Eaters," Dumbledore explained calmly, "And if Lucius or Voldemort were to find out you were working on it, it could, of course, do one of two things, jeopardize your position, or jeopardize any progress made to find a cure."

Hermione tilted her head to the side in resignation, "Oh, I suppose I should have thought of that."

"Probably," Severus commented, and earned himself a glare from the Headmaster. 

"Hermione, I know this isn't what you want to hear," Dumbledore said sadly, "But, by the look of things, it will be necessary for you to withdraw from your project."

Hermione looked down at her knees, "I see," She said quietly, "Well that shouldn't be _too difficult. Cass has already given me a way out, I suppose."_

"That's a girl," Sirius said, "Way to see the silver lining."

Severus chuckled harshly, "As always, Black, you manage to reduce things to there simplest form." 

In response Sirius glared, and was about to say something, when Hermione interjected dryly, "As much as I enjoy your ever present _witty banter, I believe that there are more important issues to discuss."_

"Hermione's right," Remus agreed calmly, "She can't spend too much time here, so we should try to get this meeting completed as quickly as possible." The other two men glared, in a startlingly similar manner, but said nothing.

"How did everything go last night, Hermione?" Dumbledore asked, and the rest of the room turned their attentions to her.

She thought for a moment, "Has Lucius contacted you, Severus?" She was stalling, although she didn't know why.

"No, but that's normal."

"Perhaps not," Hermione answered vaguely, as she paused for a moment. "Last night was…productive. As expected, Lucius did not reveal any of the Dark Lords secrets to me. I think, well really, I know Draco is suspicious of me, and my motives. He knows me far better then his father, and he knows how the Gryffindor trio used to be. But we expected that reaction from him. Lucius is…is well Lucius," Here Hermione paused for a moment trying to decide how best to explain what had happened. She eventual settled on, "When I arrived, I was escorted to his private study, the one just off the library," She looked to Severus for confirmation, who nodded, indicating for her to continue. "Anyway…" She went on to explain what had happened, from her initial conversation with Lucius to the dinner. She was fairly thorough, retelling it almost exactly as she remembered it. She told them about the initial conversation, the room, the wardrobe, and about Celina Cypress, and Tommy McClure. "Actually," She finished, "I was wondering about him. He was pretty docile, even when I was talking about Voldemort. One would think that that would have gotten _something out of him."_

Severus thought for a moment, "With McClure it's kind of hard to tell." After a pause he elaborated, "He's been a follower of Voldemort for as long as Lucius and myself. Although," He admitted, "I'm surprised he's that close to Voldemort."

"Well, I'm glade I could be of some help."

"Hermione," Dumbledore said gently, "You being in the Manor is more then we could have hoped for. Don't ever think that you, of all people, are not being enough help."

Hermione smiled at him, "Well, with any luck," She said briskly, attempting to brush off the complement, "Lucius will find reason to trust me before long, so that him and I can dispense with the initiation games."

"Tired of them already?" Severus asked teasingly.

Hermione missed the gentle tone, "No, I wouldn't say that. I just don't like not knowing where I stand. It's a comfort thing, I think. And I really hate walking on eggshells. Which reminds me," She added hurriedly, "After I told the dinner party about _their Lord, Lucius' reaction was relatively minor. I would have thought that he would have been a little more upset."_

"It depends," Severus responded neutrally, "He was either not that upset, or he saw it as a genuine opportunity to _present you to Voldemort."_

"Or he knows the game," Remus remarked, in an uncharacteristically realistic comment.

Hermione looked at him sharply. "I'd rather not think that."

"I'm with you on that one," Sirius muttered. "I would rather not think that this was–is all in vain."

"It remains, however," Dumbledore said, "That Lucius could very well know what you're doing, and be playing you, so to speak, while you play him."

"Of course the good news –and by "good news" I mean a stretch to make it seem a little better–" Remus picked up for Dumbledore, "Is that neither one of you will get anywhere, and while nothing will be gained, nothing will be lost."

Hermione smile held little mirth, "Ya, umm, as much as I appreciate the attempt, I can't really say I find that at all comforting. Look," She added after she saw the hurt flash in Remus' eyes, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, and I didn't mean to snap, its just been a…long day."

The room was silent for several moments as everyone fished for something constructive to add. Surprisingly it turned out to be Severus, "Now about your meeting with Voldemort," Hermione looked up, "You will get the summons within the next two weeks. Expect Lucius to make a big production out of it. He'll escort you to the meeting. There will be other Death Eaters, and other business to attend to when you get there. You'll know if you've been accepted if you're allowed to stay. I'll do my best to attended, but I can't guarantee anything." He paused for moment, "_Our next meeting should be sometime after that. I wouldn't suggest right away, but fairly close."_

Hermione nodded, digesting what had been said, "Should I expect Vertiaserum then?"

"I would imagine, but after our practice, I'm sure you'll do fine." Severus replied.

"There's a skill I never thought I'd have to have," Hermione muttered dryly to herself. 

"We've all acquired skills that we should never have needed," Sirius said comfortingly. This time Hermione just smiled, and said nothing, although the idea was still bothering her. 

"Here's what I'm wondering about," Remus said after a moment, "I'm a little concerned about Draco. I mean we expected him to be suspicious, but I got the impression that he was a bit more sexual then absolutely necessary."

"Hum," Severus mused, "I think he may prove to be more dangerous then originally anticipated."

"What would you suggest I do?" Hermione asked. Severus raised his eyebrow indicating that she should be the one to figure it out. "Okay," She said slowing rising to the challenge, "I could continue doing what I'm doing now; convince him that I am there for the reasons that I'm saying. Or I could go along with the sexual advances. Or I could, and this is probably the answer that you're looking for, do a cross between the two. Keep Draco pushed far enough away while still keeping him interested in me."

"You seem to know me too well," Severus replied dryly. _'Better then we'd both like, I'm sure,' Hermione thought in a moment of viciousness. _

Shaking her head she nodded. "Alright, I can't find too much wrong with that. It won't be to difficult to be convincing."

"Wonderful," Dumbledore said, "I have a slight problem with the wardrobe Lucius gave you, however. It is obvious that he wants to set you apart."

"I can't say _I'm too concerned about that. You're right, he is trying to emphasize the difference, but it's not too difficult to use it to my advantage. And besides," She added lightly, "Burgundy and gold suit me quite well."_

"And I thought Gryffindor's where suppose to be modest," Severus said darkly

"Oh, don't worry _Professor, I ceased being a Gryffindor a long time ago." He smiled at her then, and Hermione couldn't help smiling back, although she felt that everyone had missed what she had said, they had once again missed the __point._

Hermione left the office no more then ten minutes later, with instruction to send an owl when she was summoned. Walking to Hogsmeade, gave her an unwanted opportunity for reflection, and she found her mind wondering back to when she had learned how, exactly, to lie while under the truth serum. It hadn't been easy, as she recalled. Severus had forced her to take it so that she could familiarize herself with its 'symptomes', the tell tale sings that you where under the influence. There weren't many. 

The serum itself had no taste, and no odour. It didn't have any noticeable effect on the individual, except the obvious, and that worked much like Imperius. While you knew you were telling the truth, you had no way of stopping yourself. Repeated exposure helped to develop a resistance to it, but the best resistance was to prevent it from becoming fully affected. So it was all back to recognizing the signs. Vertiaserum neutralized certain neuron pathways that allowed you to choose to divulge information or not. After about the fifth or sixth exposure, Hermione had been able to tell, or sense, when she was losing the ability to choose. After about 20 exposures, she had began to put up barriers, and it wasn't long before she could almost manipulate it.

After that, Severus would slip the occasional bit into her drinks, or her meal. That was when she became apt at controlling it. Once you could control your own brain, your own response to the potion, it was just a matter of deciding when it was best to tell the truth, and when to lie. How much of the truth did the individual asking the question expect to hear? What was 'good' information to give, and what was 'bad' information to give? It all came down to a sense of timing, and understanding one's opponent. Hermione had learned that the quicker you responded the better. She'd have to predict possible question Voldemort could ask her. She also found that if she divulged something that she wouldn't otherwise mention it always added creditability. Although it was better if it was true, a lie was sometimes acceptable. 

Hermione sighed deeply; she had become far too comfortable manipulating the truth lately. She laughed harshly, _'Call it what it is, God damn it. Lying. I lie to everyone. I lie to myself, I lie to the people in that room, and I lie to everyone that I ever cared about.' Hermione kicked at the rock in front of her, and winced at the pained it caused her toes. _

_'One day when this is all over…' She made to vow, but vow what? She didn't know what she believed anymore. She was beginning to have trouble separating the 'old' Hermione from this 'new' and __improved version. _

And that frightened her. 

Now that she was living with Lucius, everything was about the game, about the mission. At least with her work… She stopped abruptly, _'So that's what's bothering me.' This project had never before had any impacted on what she did for the Ministry. She'd always had a part of her life that was her own. Sure she had to isolate herself from her colleagues, but she never like most of them anyway. But she had always had a project, a purpose that was hers and hers alone. Now all she had was…well…giving Lucius Malfoy blowjobs, it appeared. There where worse things, she supposed, __'Although not much!' _

She chuckled at that, feeling a little better. At least she knew what was bothering her, and if she knew what the problem was she could endeavor to fix it. So she couldn't work on Auror's Darwin, she could always ask for a simpler project, something that didn't require her usual commitment level, and something that could, in no way connect with the Death Eaters. 

That resolved, Hermione made to Disapparate, and concentrating arrived, again on the landing pad of Malfoy Manor. This time as she looked up the steps, she did the smart thing, she Apparated to the top. As she turned the gold handle, she couldn't help but feel, despite her rather quick solution, that a part of her was indeed lost. 

**A/N: I hope the characterization of Lupin and Black wasn't too far off. I did my best. **

Formidilosus: is a Latin word for causing dread and anxiety.

A special thank you to my Beta's Stephani and Alex a.k.a Toadie. 


	7. The Birds and the Bees

Chapter Seven: The Birds and the Bees 

**Disclaimer: See chapter one**

_Knock, knock, Hermione looked up from the papers in front of her, "Come in, Lucius." She said from her desk in her study at Malfoy Manor. It was two weeks after her meeting with the Resistance, and a sort of routine had developed between her and Lucius. During the day, she would attend to her work at the Ministry. Even though she had dropped Auror's Darwin, she had been given a less important project to work on. At night they would have dinner. Various guest were there for Hermione to parade in front of, and although conversation was less heated then the first night it was always… interesting if nothing else. After dinner, Hermione would never stay too long, Lucius would find his way up to her room, and they would spend time together. Much to Hermione's surprise it was not always sexual. In fact, more often then not, they would just talk, about nothing really important, mind you, but Hermione found it all quite stimulating. _

They talked about everything from history, to the Ministry (delicately skirting around the "Voldemort" issue), to certain Muggle technologies. Lucius' dislike of the Muggle world did not, it appeared, prevent him from wanting to learn about it. 

Now, two weeks later, Hermione begrudgingly admitted that she enjoyed talking with Lucius, and she enjoyed his company. Oh, there were times when she very much wanted to hurt him, but on the whole the two got along quite well.

Hermione looked up to see the man of her musing standing in front of her, holding a letter in one hand. "Good evening my dear," He drawled, taking a seat in front of the desk.

"Evening Lucius," Hermione replied closing the folder, and putting it in a drawer. "What's the letter?"

"Curious, aren't we?" He mocked gently, she smiled in return, "It's for you actually."

"Oh?" Hermione reached out her arm, palm up to take it. Lucius, however took her hand, and brought it to his lips.

"Patience my dear," He kissed her hand. "We have other matters to attend to first."

"What could those possible be?" She asked coyly, as he lead her through the study door, and into the bedroom.

"Oh, I think you'll enjoy it," He said pulling her to him, and kissing her, none to gently, on the lips. Hermione was quite surprised. While the two had spent much time talking over the last two weeks, they had also spent a fair bit of time in the bedroom, with Hermione doing all the work, so to speak, and Lucius reaping all the benefits. An arrangement that Hermione didn't mind. She would much rather be doing something, then have to fake enjoying whatever Lucius wanted to do to her. She'd convinced him that she couldn't actually have sex with him by telling him that she wanted to wait a while. He'd been…hesitant at first, but eventually he agreed. Hermione suspected that he got off with some poor female captive or another, but she never inquired.

            Now, however, she was worried. Lucius had never kissed her, and although it certainly wasn't a bad kiss, he was still kissing her. Hermione stepped back slightly, "I wasn't expecting that," She said.

Lucius chuckled, setting the letter down on the night table, and moving towards Hermione. "You'll find I'm full of surprises this evening." Again he pulled her to him, and swiftly turned her around so that her back was to the bed. He then leaned into kiss her again forcing her back with his body weight. Leaving her lying on the bed, and him on top of her.

"Lucius," Hermione warned as she again broke away.

He smiled at her as he trailed his hand down her neck. "Yes?" He asked playfully.

"What are you doing?"

That earned her a genuine laugh from the man resting on top of her. "Having my way with you."

Hermione noticeably tensed, and not all of it was an act, "But I thought…"

"Oh don't worry, my dear," Came the response in between kisses that he was placing on her neck and collarbone, his lips following the same pattern his fingertips had just traced. "I'll respect your wishes. I just think it's time that you got to experience something of what you've been doing to me lately."

_'Oh, there's no danger of that happening,' She though, although she managed a smile, "Wouldn't you rather have me pleasure you?" She figured she give it one last attempt, although she already knew the answer. _

"My dear, you are just too generous in the bedroom. I want you to be selfish, this time at least." He punctuated his request by gentle brushing his hand over her nipple as he moved to unbutton her robe.

            Even as he began Hermione had known it would come to this. She'd been told exactly how to manipulate Lucius' sexual desire. And it had been one of the strangest conversations of her life. 

            It was one year since her "training" had begun, and it had been a very tedious year. Severus – she had come to think of him as such – had drilled in various "pureblood" traditions and expected behavior, from proper dress code for gatherings, to the proper wine to serve with chicken in a cranberry sauce. She had found it very boring. However, realizing its importance, she had stuck with it and tried her best not to complain, too much. 

            Sirius and Remus had developed a version of the Auror's training especially for Hermione's unique set of circumstances. They were slowly teaching her a multitude of curses, and counter curse, while emphasizing that she learn how to improvise her own.

            Hermione, for her part, had put an acceptable amount of distance between herself, and Ron and Harry. She was slowly separating from her parents, having been allotted more time to do this, she would not actually _stop seeing them until it was deemed absolutely necessary. _

            For Hermione, today was about to go down as her strangest, ever. She'd be told to report to Severus cottage after work. She'd only been spending a few hours there, but it was imperative that she attend. So at the appropriate time – six pm had, at some point, become that time – she'd Apparated to Severus' home. Upon arriving, she walked up the porch, and let herself in. Sometime ago, he'd told her the wards, saying that he would change then when she entered the Manor, but for now it was better that she knew them, "More convenient," was how he put it. 

            Entering the home, she heard the familiar sounds of him cooking in the kitchen and smiled. Over the last year, she'd come to truly enjoy his cooking, something she had discovered that he not only loved to do, but was quite good at. Removing her cloak, it had been a chilly summer day, she noticed two others hanging on the rack. _'Curious,' she though, as she quickly double-checked with herself that it was the right day. Reassured, she made her way to the kitchen. Passing the dinning room, she noticed that the table had been set for four. Really curious now, if not a little suspicious, Hermione raised an eyebrow as she made her way hesitantly down the hall. Reaching the kitchen, her other eyebrow joined the first, as her jaw hit the floor. Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black were sipping wine in Severus Snape's kitchen, while he was frying something. Hermione's hand shot out to grab the wall, steadying herself._

"Hello," Remus said noticing her, "How are you?"

"F–Fine," She choked out, after a moment. "How's everyone else?" She inquired politely, crossing the tiled floor to sit on one of the stools. 

"We're doing great," Remus answered for the group, as he poured her a glass of white wine. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"Hmm," Hermione accepted the glass, taking a long sip. "What exactly, and forgive me for so rude," She blurted out, shocked, "But what exactly are you doing here? She couldn't quite keep the shock out of her voice.

"I've been wondering that myself," Sirius muttered, looking darkly at Severus' back. 

Remus glared at him. "Severus was kind enough to invite us for dinner." He explained.

"Oh don't look so shell shocked," Severus said, turnig from the stove, "There are certain things that have to be discussed. Now is as good a time as any. It was decided that the three of us should all discuss these things with you." He sounded about as happy as Sirius looked. 

Hermione had to suppress a grin. Once one got over the initial "shell shock", it was all rather humorous. "Dumbledore's idea, I take it?" She asked trying hard to sound anything but amused.

"Yes," Severus confirmed, "And don't sound so pleased. I doubt you'll feel the same once you realize what's going to _be discussed."_

"I don't know," Hermione decided she couldn't fight it anymore, "I think we'd have to be discussing the Dark Lord's sexual preferences for the novelty of this to fade, and even then…I don't know."

"You're not so far off," Severus said, turning back to the stove.

            When she inquired further, he refused to say anything more as did her other two dinner companions. Eventually she gave up, deciding she would find out later, and so the four settled into an easy conversation. Well really it was more a conversation between her and Remus with Severus and Sirius putting in the occasional _constructive comment. As Severus finished his dinner preparations, he led the group into the rarely used dining room.  As with the rest of the main level, the floor was a mat finished hardwood. The east wall was half bay window, and on either side of it were two small jungles. As it turned out, Severus was quite the horticulturalist (not surprising considering the nature of potions), and so his home was full of wonderful specimens of some of the rarest plants, both wizarding and other wise. The fireplace was adjacent to the wall, and it was the most decorative in the house. It was framed by white and beige marble, with a white wood mantle, above which was the Snape family crest. Opposite the bay window, there was a sliding door that allowed entry from the kitchen. On one side of the door there was a rich oak china cabinet, the other side was occupied the matching liquor hutch. As Hermione noted, upon her entry, the table was set for four, although it could have comfortable accommodated a few more. _

            Hermione, unsure where to sit, looked up at Severus, who was setting dishes on the table, for some direction. Normally when they ate in the dining room she would sit beside him to better facilitate conversation, now she wasn't sure if he would want Sirius at the end of the table, or beside him. Glancing at the other two, she got the impression that they were also having the same dilemma, and made to ask her host. "Hermione you can sit there," He gestured at the end of the table, negating the need for her inquest. She nodded, and moved over to stand beside her chair. Remus moving behind her, pulled it out, and allowed her to sit down, before the other gentlemen took their seats. She hated the formality, but knew that Severus would scold her if she had not done it. 

            Dinner was a monotonous affair. Pleasant conversation had been exhausted in the kitchen, and the three men seemed reluctant to say what they had to until dinner was over. Finally as the dishes disappeared, and the chocolate cheesecake with cherry sauce appeared, they exchanged glances. Hermione took a bite of the homemade desert, and decided to make it easier on them, "If there's something you want to tell me," They were obviously startled as they turned to look at her sharply, "Just come out with it." Hermione set down her fork, and leaned back in her chair to give everyone her undivided attention.

"You're right, of course," Remus agreed, "It's just a difficult subject to breach."

"Really," Sirius continued uneasily, "It's something I never thought I would have to discuss this with any woman, you especially."

Hermione smiled, "Oh come on," She said lightly, "What are you going to do, explain how to get Lucius' attention in bed?"

Severus raised an eyebrow at her, "How uncanny, Miss Granger, but I do believe you've nailed it pretty much on the head." For the second time that evening Hermione's jaw dropped to the floor. 

"Excuse me?"

"You've reached the point in you training," Severus volunteered matter-of-factually, "Where you must understand what Lucius will expect from a woman sexually, and how you can use this to your advantage."

"Oh," Hermione said slowly, "And this is somehow a group activity?"

"It was decided that it would be better if _this was presented from more then one man's opinion." Remus offered when no one else moved to answer. "This will also make you more comfortable discussing the sexual aspects of the relationship with all of us. When the time comes, that is."_

"Alright," Hermione replied, not entirely convinced.

            "Okay," Sirius said, clearing his throat, "We all know that Lucius is a complicated man," When he paused briefly to collect his thoughts, Hermione couldn't resist. 

"And no one understands him but his woman?"

"No, not really," Sirius said slowly, missing Hermione's tone. She smiled shaking her head slightly. "What?"

"Never mind, it was a Muggle reference, but never mind." She answered motioning for him to continue. 

Giving her an inquisitive look, Sirius let it pass and began again. "Anyway, Lucius is not your run of the mill, average Joe, and he doesn't have a conventional view on…sex." He choked on the word, "Anyway…" he continued hurriedly, "there are certain things that Lucius will like and respect more then others. He…will…he will want, and expect certain things…but will respect your decision not to do others…" Hermione looked at him, slightly confused.

"What Black is trying so _aptly to say," Severus took up for the other man as he fumbled for the right words. "Is that Lucius does not have a problem finding some one to have sex with. Granted he is, in all actuality raping them, but Imperius makes it very realistic."  Hermione nodded, and Severus continued, "What he finds difficult to get, or will once Narcissa is dead, is someone to be on equal footing with. Someone who is not afraid to take control, but also someone who is willing to be controlled." He paused, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"_

Hermione thought about it, "I think so. It sounds like your describing a normal sexual relationship."

"Yes, I suppose I am," Severus agreed, "However there are some obvious differences."

"I can see those, or at least some of them," Hermione admitted. "I'm not too sure how I'm suppose to use that to gain footing with him though."

"Okay," Remus said, "Lucius is going to appreciate any and all wishes you have about sex. For a time, anyway. It will be up to you to set any and all guild lines."

"Any suggestions?" Hermione asked after Remus had stopped, and no one else moved to pick up the conversation. 

"Umm, well…ya," Sirius said, "That's the point of this meeting – discussion. We're telling you to lay the ground rules."

"Ya, I got that part, " Hermione replied impatiently. "Any suggestions what those ground rules should be?"

"We were getting to that," Severus defended. 

"Very slowly," She snapped, "I mean the anticipation is just killing me."

Severus glared at her, "Okay, here's what you're going to do. Initially Lucius will expect some show of your intentions. You're going to have to pleasure him without actually having sex with him."

Hermione schooled her features to look confused, "Now how exactly am I suppose to do that?" She asked innocently.

Severus glared, if possible became even more disappointed, "Don't play stupid, Hermione," He snapped. "A 'blow job' is the current slag, I believe." Hermione grinned, while Severus continued to glare. "I'm glade that someone finds this amusing. This is very important, you position in Malfoy Manor could very well depend on it."

"I know," Hermione still continued to grin, "But try to look at it from my point of view. I'm sitting down to dinner, with three relatively attractive men. One's on the run from the Ministry; one's a werewolf; and one's and ex-Death Eater. Two of you can't stand to be in the same room as one another, under normal circumstances anyway, and yet, here you all are, giving me an advanced version of the "birds and the bees". It's more humorous then you'd think."

"You know," Remus agreed smiling, "When you put it like that…but," He continued seriously, "We should really get this finished."

"Yes, yes, of course," Hermione turned to Severus, all traces of amusement gone. "Alright, so I give him a token blow job, then what?"

"You'll continue to do that, while indicating that you would prefer to wait to have sex until you know him a little better, or something like that; whatever your comfortable with. Ironically, Lucius will more then likely go for it. He has an interesting view on just what it means to be a _gentleman. Now as for him pleasing you, that's really more up to you. I would recommend not letting him get intimate that way for two reason," He began to count on his long fingers, "First: he won't expect that. Second: and probably most important, you are going to feel violated. The longer you put that off the better."_

"It's all pretty simple in theory," Hermione thought for a moment, she was struggling with what she wanted to say next. "As for my…technique?" She finally settled on. Sirius looked away from her, and Remus glanced down at the table. 

"We'll start working on _that in the next six months," Severus said, the only one who could meet her eyes; she was extremely grateful._

"Right then," She glanced around, blinking rapidly several times to clear her mind, "If that's everything…" She paused. "I should be going," She stood up.

"That would probably be best," Severus agreed, as he along with Remus and Sirius stood also. "We'll walk you out."

"Hermione," Sirius said as she turned to leave the room. His tone made her stop, but she continued to face the hall. "I just wanted to say how sorry we–"

She put up her hand to stop him, already knowing what he was going to say. "I'll see you all later," She said walking out of the dining room; relieved to see no one had followed her. 

            She had Apparated home, and collapsed with laughter at the very idea of it all. When she didn't think she could laugh anymore, she had crawled into bed, and laid, staring at the ceiling, as the tears came. The reality had sunk in those few hours and that night she had felt so very sorry for her self.

            But now, she realized as Lucius gazed at her naked body, as if he was seeing it for the first time. She felt…she wasn't really sure anymore. As far as Lucius was concerned, Hermione was over the moon with pleasure, but those were all carefully conditioned responses; she _had learned from the best. She whimper ever so slightly as Lucius' fingers brushed her breast, and as he slow lowered his mouth to suckle the nipple._

If Hermione had to assign a name to what she was feeling, it would be surprise. Surprise at how gentle, and…well tender he was being. And surprise, she realized with a jolt, just how much she was enjoying this. Hermione suddenly became aware of just how sensitive her flesh _was._

She let out a moan. _'It's not all schooled,' she thought, as Lucius lifted his mouth from her breast, and trailed kisses down her abdomen. As his head moved downward, his body flowed back into a kneeling position on the floor. Lucius' mouth lingered for a moment at her clit, giving it a playful nip; Hermione's lips curled up in anticipation. The half smile faded quickly, as Lucius' skilled mouth continued its journey downward on her silky smooth leg. Lucius' pale hands came up to delicately massage the inside of her thighs, repeatedly dipping dangerously close to the heated flesh.  _

"Playing the tease, Mister Malfoy?" She asked coyly.

Lucius brought his head from where his tongue was caressing the back of her knee, "It would appear to be working, my dear." He drawled, noticing her flushed face. Lucius' steel grey gaze locked with her brown one, and in that moment, he allowed his right index and middle finger to penetrate her slick cunt. And then he slowly removed his fingers, stimulating _everything_ as he spread the moisture over her. It was then that Hermione allowed herself to completely relax, falling back on the bed. She couldn't help relenting all control to him. 

            Lucius surveyed his handy work with smug satisfaction, and brought his left hand up to gently tweak her hardening nipple, which progressively firmed as the pressure of Lucius' left fingers increased. All the while his right fingernails were busy grinding against her clit, with the occasional–and unpredictable–plunge inside. Small beads of perspiration were developing on Lucius' forehead as he fought to maintain an acceptable level of control. Hermione balled her hands around the sheets at her side and in an effort to stifle a whimper, she turned her head into her shoulder. 

"My dear," Hermione could hear the smirk in his voice, along with a surprising note of pride, "There's no use in trying to fight it." With that he brought his head down, lifting her leg slightly, to allow his tongue to continue it ministration at the back of her knee. 

            Hermione senses were on over load, – with her breast and her clit and that sensitive spot behind her knee being stimulated all at once – "_Oh-my_," she panted.

"Much better," Lucius said, as he began to trail soft kisses down the back of her calf, stretching her leg out as he slowly descending to her ankle. When his mouth reached its' target, the tongue flitted out to lap at the soft skin, and then he slowly blew on it. The cool air caused Hermione's skin to tingle as it tightened into millions of little goose pimples. Lucius smiled against her ankle, and slipped his teeth down to grate over the pad of her foot. Hermione giggled, squirming backwards causing Lucius to push down on her swollen ball of nerves, and the giggle turned into a gasp. "That tickled," she rasped, surprising herself with how hoarse her voice sounded. Lucius chuckled softly, his teeth moving back up to her ankle, and biting down on the tendon connecting the back of her foot with the back of her leg. Hermione grunted, as she pulled her leg away from him to rest, bent, on the bed. "And that hurt."

"Sorry," He apologized, not sounding at all remorseful, "But it does–" here he brought his head up to her inner thigh where his hands had massaged earlier, and licked a generous portion of the skin, then, as he had done to her ankle, he blow cool air over the spot "–serve a purpose." 

            This time as the air touched her skin, Hermione tensed, a shiver rippling through her. Lucius slowly removed his fingers from the heated flesh, and settled his head in between her legs. When he didn't immediately start his ministration, Hermione arched into him by way of encouragement.  Still Lucius did nothing.

"What do you say?" Lucius asked, slightly muffled. 

Hermione groaned, and squirmed downward in an effort to force Lucius to do what she wanted. He did not comply, instead, he brought his head back, and repeated, "You know the magic word."

Desperately, Hermione removed her hands from the tangled bed sheets, and brought them up to rest on the top of Lucius' head, preventing him from moving further away. "God damn it," she ground out.

"That's not what I'm looking for," He replied calmly, trying to remove his head from Hermione's grip.

"Please?" She whimpered.

"'Please' what?" Lucius stopped trying to remove Hermione's hands. 

"Uhh," Hermione gritted her teeth, "Please," She again, trying to move his head toward her center.

"Say it," He commanded quietly.

"I want you," She panted, "To suck my cunt."

"As the lady insists," He smirked, and brought his head down. 

            Hermione had known that Lucius would be good, and she wasn't disappointed. This was no sixteen-year-old boy practicing the alphabet. No, this was a man who had been in these waters before, and _'oh dear god,'_ he wasn't floundering. Lucius was teasing, and nipping, and plunging, and doing this little swirling thing that was bring Hermione dangerously close to a climax. And then everything tensed, and the release. 

            Lucius brought his hands up to cup Hermione's face stroking it gently as he slide up against her, resting beside her. Hermione relaxed against him, absently noticing his obvious arousal. She brought her hands down, removing Lucius shirt from his pants, and making to undo the button. "Tsk, tsk, my dear," He leaned forward, and kissed the corners of her mouth, "Not this time," He whispered in her ear. With that, he left the bed, leaving Hermione to recover.  

***

            When Hermione's breathing returned to normal, she looked around the room to see Lucius leaning on the mantle of the fire, sleeves rolled up, and a balloon brandy glass in one hand. He was staring into the flames. Hermione pushed herself up onto the pillows, and sat watching him for several moments. It seemed he had slipped into his own world, one in which he did not need to control everything about him self. His hair, which was usually tied neatly into an old-fashioned ponytail, now had a few strands escaping, hanging forward, and framing the profile of his face. Which, when he wasn't schooling his features, was almost beautiful. For as the fire shadowed his face, he was startlingly striking, with his flawless aristocratic features, his graceful posture, his flawless skin, the immaculate robes, she wanted to reach out to him, and yet she was afraid that any movement would end that perfect moment. And it was a perfect moment, one in which he was no longer a Death Eater, and she was no longer a spy, sent to use him to gain invaluable information. They were just two people who, under different circumstances, could possible have meant something to each other. She saw him, then as a young man, a man who had not served Voldemort, a man who did not carry the Dark Mark, and she was mesmerized. She watched him for several seconds more, before Lucius raised his head, and turned to look at her, his soft face going hard, as his steel eyes penetrated hers. 

"Wonderful," He said in his favorite condescending tone, a smirk appearing on his face. Hermione could barely conceal the cringe. Time had returned to normal. "I was beginning to think that you would never recover."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Don't be silly Lucius, you're good, but you're not _that good."_

"Are you criticizing my technique?"

"Not criticizing, as much as I'm suggesting some improvement may be necessary."

"I see," Lucius' smirk increased, as he walked over to sit on the bed, "And I suppose you would be willing to lend yourself to the cause?"

"Oh if I must," Hermione replied with mock resignation. "But," She continued briskly, "I believe you had a letter for me."

Lucius chuckled, "Yes, yes of course." He picked the parchment up off the bedside table. "Here you go," He handed it to her bowing his head, mockingly.

Hermione took the letter, "Thank you," She said flipping it over and looking for a crest. There was none, although it was sealed with green wax. She rolled her eyes again, "You know," She said to Lucius as her finger lifted the seal, "You'd think that you Slytherins would grow out of your obsession with green, at some point." Lucius raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Hermione scanned the contents of the letter, and forced her face not to reveal anything. "So tomorrow then," Lucius nodded, "I thought I'd have a little more time to prepare."

"You've had two weeks to prepare to meet Lord Voldemort." Lucius replied, unfeeling, "Besides most of the meetings are held on a Saturday nights, I would have thought you would have known that by now."

"I suppose I should have," Hermione conceded. Rescanning the letter, "So what do I have to know before the meeting?" She was, of course, fully prepared for it, and knew exactly what would be expected of her, but was also aware that she was expected to ask.

He thought for a moment, "A few things, I suppose. I'll have Draco inform you of them tomorrow. I'll be away from the Manor for most of the day, Ministry business, but I'll be back before we leave."

"Draco will be accompanying us then?" She asked neutrally.

"Yes, of course," Lucius replied as if it should have been obvious, "I think perhaps the orgasm has clouded your brain."

Hermione shook her head, "Like I said you're not that good."

Lucius glared at her, "Well, perhaps I should start practicing right now then."

Hermione appeared to consider it, and then shook her head, "No, I don't think so."

"What?" Lucius huffed, "Women don't tell Lucius Malfoy _'no'."_

Hermione shrugged unconcerned, as she stood up from the bed, and walked over to her dresser. "This one does," She replied wrapping her dressing gown around herself. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a bath, and then retire for the evening." She crossed the room to the door, "I've obviously got quite the day tomorrow, and I'd like to be at my best when I meet Lord Voldemort."

Lucius stood up slowly, walking towards her, "You may live to regret this decision, my dear."

Hermione smiled sweetly, as she put her hand on the doorknob, "It's possible, I suppose. But I doubt it." Hermione returned confidently, although her voice held a note of teasing.

"You know," Lucius said. Placing his hand over Hermione's to prevent her from actually opening the door he turned to face her. "I could have my way with you if I choose."

Again Hermione shrugged, "Yes, I know you could, but I don't think you'd like me that way."

Lucius tilted his head, considering, "No, perhaps not." He turned, opening the door, and stepping over the threshold. "See you tomorrow, Hermione."

            Hermione shut the door behind him, and slowly turned into the study, Voldemort's summons still clutched tightly in her hand. Sitting down in at the desk, she again read the letter.

_'Dear Miss Hermione Granger,_

_Lord Voldemort has requested your presence at tomorrow evening's gathering. You will of course be accompanied by Mr. Malfoy, I am certain that he will take care of all the necessary arrangements needed to prepare you for meeting our Lord. _

_I would like to remind you that it is a very great honour to be invited to meet Lord Voldemort, and an even greater honour because you are a Muggle-born. I hope, for your sake, that you will do nothing to embarrass your kind._

_            Until tomorrow,_

_                        Wormtail'_

            Hermione's eyes kept returning to the part about what an honour was being bestowed upon her. That made her chuckle. The part however, about "your kind" was less then amusing. It was obviously there to tell her just how Voldemort viewed her. Not that she was expecting much more, although it would have been nice to have gotten a break; gained _some footing with the Dark Lord. __'Oh, well,' she sighed, __'that's for tomorrow.'  She put the letter in top drawer, making a mental note to send a copy of it to Dumbledore in the morning, and headed for the bathroom._

  
            She showered quickly, and after drying and plaiting her hair, crawled into bed. She made to reach for the journal, and decided that she didn't really want to write tonight. She wasn't entirely certain that she would be lying when she said she'd enjoyed Lucius' ministration, and she didn't really want to deal with that right at the moment. _'Something else for tomorrow,' she supposed, and beside she need to concentrate on Voldemort, and that really __did mean a good nights rest. Turning out the lights and dimming the fire, she lay there for sometime before the gods of slumber decided to be merciful._

**Chapter last updated on: **November 4, 2002

**A/N: The line "Yes I know you could, but I don't think you'd like me that way." Is based on a similar line from Cleopatra, with Elizabeth Taylor. She says to Rex Harrison, Caesar_, during one of their many confrontations, "You won't like me this way…" or something like that. It seemed to fit, and I saw the movie recently. As for the Shaft reference, I couldn't resist, and besides, every story should make random references to Shaft. A special thanks to my Beta's Alex and Steph, good job! _**


	8. Bathing is Not a Spectator Sport

Chapter Eight: Bathing is _Not_ a Spectator Sport 

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

            The next morning, after a quick shower, and an even quicker breakfast, Hermione, summons in hand, Apparated directly into her flat. She hadn't been home since this had all started two weeks ago, and entering she was relieved to see that nothing had changed. For some reason Hermione had had this horrible image of everything being in disarray, or some of her precious possessions missing. How any of this would have happened was beyond her, but she was still relieved. Bending down, she picked up her Muggle mail. She sifted though it, and noting that it was a combination of bills, and junk, she tossed the papers carelessly on to the speckled grey, black, and white counter top. She walked down the grey-carpeted floor, and into her small bedroom. Everything in there was also how it should be. The bed was still neatly made, and the nightstand, along with the stout dresser were only covered with a thin layer of dust. Hermione sighed, and walked back out into the living room. Against the back wall was a well-designed study area; her computer sat on a metal desk, which was framed on all sides by large bookshelves. Behind the study area was a chesterfield that faced a small entertainment center. The flat wasn't very big, but it suited Hermione just fine. 

            Moving back into her bedroom, Hermione approached the fireplace. She'd chosen this apartment specifically because it _had_ a fireplace, and although it was in the bedroom, it was the best that she had been able to get. It had cost her to, but at moments like these the benefit far out weighed any extra cost that she ensued from it. She lit a fire in the grate, and grabbing the silver tin of floo from the wood mantle she stared at the green powder for a moment before she sighed, and through a pinch into the flames. "Severus Snape," She said, and waited from the man's head to appear. _'I hope he's not to upset,'_ she thought, realizing the risk she was taking in contacting him. Even with all the extra safety precautions that the two had taken, if anyone was with Severus when he received the call, and he was foolish enough to answer it…_ 'Well, let's hope that doesn't happen.'_

            Hermione waited five minutes before Severus appeared in the fire before her, he _did not_ look please. "You had best have a good reason for contacting me like this, Miss Granger." He only called her Miss Granger when he was most displeased. 

"I received the summons, Severus," she said calmly, trying not to be affected by his tone. 

"And?" He said, "You knew this was coming."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, and thought for a moment, "Yes I suppose," She replied looking down at her hands. "It just that I didn't expect to be so effected by it. I mean it one thing to fool Lucius, but Voldemort? And what if I can't block the Vertiserum, and I spill the whole conspiracy? I mean, Christ, the man's a God damn snake, with beady little eyes, and a bald baby head…I don't know if I can do this."

Severus looked at her closely, "Hermione," his tone noticeably gentler, "I have the utmost confidence that you will do just fine."

"I suppose," Hermione said again. 

"When did you receive the summons?" 

"Last night, after Lucius…after Lucius and I finished talking." She didn't know why, but she didn't want to tell him about what had happen last night. _'Who are you kidding Granger, you know why.' 'Shut up,' _she told herself, and focused again on the man in the fire. "You were right, of course, he made quite the production of it before he gave it to me. Draco's suppose to _brief_ me later on what I have to know for tonight."

"Tonight?" Severus said sharply, "Your meeting Voldemort _tonight_?"

"Yes," Hermione said slowly as if this should have been obvious, "Why do you think that I called you instead of sending an owl?"

"Because you were nervous." Severus replied defensively.

"Well what's so special about tonight," she snapped, she already regretted contacting him.

"The meeting is at my estate."

"Oh," Hermione replied, and then smiled slightly the regret gone, "You won't be serving quiche will you?"

Severus looked confused for a moment, and then narrowed his eyes, "Certainly not with rosemary." Hermione laughed. "Well at least I'll be there if anything goes wrong, but Hermione," Severus' voice had an edge that made Hermione look at him sharply, all traces of mirth gone, "You must make sure that Lucius does not suspect that you know the castle. And if something does go wrong, I cannot blow my cover."

Hermione sighed and smiled sadly at him, "I know," she said.

"And," he continued after a moment, "If something happens to me, you cannot react, you cannot do anything."

"I know this too, Severus, we've been over this a thousand times. The minute the circle forms it's every member for them selves. I know."

Severus tilted his head slightly, "If you do something reckless I will be distinctly displeased."

Hermione laughed, although it didn't reach her eyes, "If I do something reckless the last thing I'm going to be concerned about is your displeasure."

"Hermione," Severus said briskly, "Just don't forget your promise, and everything should go fine." He paused for a moment, and she nodded, remembering all to well what he had made her agree too only a month before. _"If I am about to die, and you are forced to witness it, you will do nothing. Do you understand, Hermione, you can do nothing. I will be able to watch you die, but I have to know that you'll be able to watch the same thing happen to me. Promise me that all you do is watch."_ She hadn't agreed right away, _"I don't understand."_ She had said._ "Voldemort will have you restrained so quick that you won't know what hit you."_ He'd replied matter-of-factually,_ "You don't stand a chance against all the Death Eaters. You're only hope is that he doesn't know about you too, and you can escape. Now promise me." _In the end she relented because she knew he was right. "Now," the man in her fire said, the smirk evident in his voice, "I have to go fret over the hors d'oeuvres I'm going to serve later. Good luck, Hermione, you'll do fine." There was no smirk in the last sentence. "Oh, and an owl will be sent with a suggestion for _our_ next meeting. It'll be in about four days."

"Good bye," she nodded as he disappeared.  

            Retrieving her wand from her pocket, Hermione put out the green flames, and strolled back into the kitchen. She grabbed the mail that she had looked through earlier, and sat down at her computer to pay her bills. When she was done, 45 minutes later, she got up, stretched, gave a longing look around her home, and left.

***

            Hermione sat on the window ledge dividing her attention between reading her book, _Great Expectations _by Charles Dickens (it wasn't her favorite one by him, but she thought that it was somehow appropriate), and staring out at the beautiful estate. As it was, her room over looked a lake on the Malfoy property, and it reminded her, in an oddly comforting way, of Hogwarts. She had taken walks out there both by herself, and with Lucius. In fact she had explored most of the Malfoy property; Lucius occasionally playing tour guide. There was a Quidditch pitch on one side of the park where she imagined that Draco spent much of his time as a child. Closer to the house was a large stable and corral, and Hermione had found that she enjoyed spending the occasional afternoon riding through the large velvety green fields, and into the foreboding forest that marked the end of the property. And of course there were the token gardens, rose, flower (they had to be separated) hedge maze, statue, the magical verity, all perfectly manicured by the domestics, and taken for granted by the owners. Hermione's favorite was the magical one, it was filled with all sorts of beautiful specimens including _Puffapods_ fat pink pods that explode into flowers when dropped (they'd been dropped all over the garden), _Alihostsy_ large trees scattered around the grounds; their leaves caused hysteria, and _Diltany_ a ground crawling fungus with small white flowers that bloomed at night, and gave off a enduring glow.  

            Hermione turned back to her book, and tried to focus, yet her mind betrayed her, and kept straying to thoughts of the young mister Malfoy. She was still waiting for Draco to come and brief her for tonight's festivities. She had, in fact, been waiting all afternoon for his arrival, and as she saw the sun moving lower in the horizon, she decided it was time for her to start getting ready. Hermione was aware that it wouldn't take her _that _long to complete the process, but she didn't want to rush, and she didn't want to make mistakes. One didn't walk into the snake's pit looking like one gave some half ass job at looking good. 

            Hermione set her book down, and stripping, crossed the distance to her bathroom. Running a hot bath, with bubbles, she slipped in and let the water and lavender oils try to relax her. 

            The tension in Hermione's lower back was just beginning to diminish when there was an intrusive knock at the bedroom door. "Yes?" she called, and heard the door open slightly.

"Hermione," Draco's muffled voice said slowly, as if unsure what to call her. Hermione cursed, and sat up slowly. Moving to stand up a very interesting idea occurred to her. She reclined in the tub. 

"I'm taking a bath, Draco," she called, steadily, "If you want to wait in the study, I'll be out in a few moments."

"No," the voice was no longer muffled as he opened the bathroom door, and stepped in, "This is important, and I have other things to do today." 

_'Ah,'_ she thought as Draco leaned against the counter, _'it worked.'_ She smiled at him, "What can I do for you?"

"Tonight you will meet Lord Voldemort," Draco said, as if he was bored.

"Ten points to Slytherin, Draco," Hermione smirked, "I already knew that."

 Draco rolled his eyes, "When you meet him, you will not look him directly in the eyes, do not speak unless directly spoken to, when you address him it will be as Master, or My Lord, and when you _are_ speaking to him, you will be on your knees. Understand?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll manage." Hermione replied.

"Wonderful," Draco still sounded bored, and so Hermione, in an effort to _liven_ things up, reached her arm out to get her razor resting on the porcelain lip of the tub; at the same time she brought her slender white calf out of the water, and rested it on the ledge of the tub. Leaning forward, she began to slowly bring the razor up to her knee, her eyes watching Draco, as he watched her. Every time Hermione reached forward to her ankle, her breasts skimmed the bubbles, and Draco's gaze flicker between the exposed breast, and the hand that was climbing up her leg.

His expression did not change, "What exactly are you trying to achieve?" His tone was the same as it had been while he had been giving her the instruction.

"Achieve," Hermione stopped, and looked at him forging shock, "I'm trying to achieve silky smooth legs. At least that's what this razor promises." She extended the leg further out of the water towards Draco, "What do you think?" 

Draco's eyes moved off the leg, and locked on to her face as he stepped forward. Running the back of his hand up her limb, he cupped it at the knee and brought his hand around to the back of it. His hand lingered there, the thumb rubbing the sensitive spot that caused her to shutter, and then he allowed his hand to travel the rest of the way down to her foot. 

Stepping back, "It appears we've discovered a talent."

"Indeed," Hermione said, bringing her cool leg back into the warm water. She sat for a few moments, aware that Draco was watching her, before she made to stand up. "If you could hand me my robe," Hermione indicated a silk garment lined with terrycloth that was hanging on a hook by the other towels. As Draco turned to obtain the article, Hermione stood, removed the stopper allowing the water to drain, and turned so that her back was to him. 

Draco moved quietly up behind her, placing the robe on her shoulders, and putting the hem over her arm so that it wouldn't hang in the water that still remained in the tub. As he leaned into her, Draco blow hot air over the base of her neck, causing her to shiver again. "You may be able to seduce my father this way _my dear_," he whispered silky in her ear, "But you will never _ever_ get me. You will always be my father's whore," he straightened running his hand down her arm. "On your bed you will find a black robe for this evening–" his voice was back to that same bored drawl "–you do not get the anonymity of a mask." Hermione inclined her head to watch as Draco turned towards the door, "Oh, and try not to embarrass the Malfoy name, too much." With that, he pulled the door shut. 

Hermione waited until she heard the bedroom door close, and she was sure he had left the room before she moved. "Well," she said aloud, "It would appear that we were drastically mistaken about his sexual interests." Shrugging, Hermione allowed the hem of her robe to fall, tying it around her waist as she stepped out of the tub. _'Well,'_ she figured, at least she knew where Draco stood. She had been looking for something concrete, and…well…now she had it. Hermione was fairly certain that Draco wouldn't mention this little incident to Lucius. How did she know? It wouldn't get Draco anywhere. Draco knew that Lucius was enjoying her company, and even if he told Lucius, Lucius was unlikely to care. As she'd been told before, Lucius Malfoy's sense of certain things was a bit different from everyone else's. And so, without further thought about it, Hermione went about her party preparation. 

***

            Hermione pulled the silky black robe over her head, and watched in the mirror as it reshaped to fit her figure. Turning to the vanity table, Hermione caught sight of a folded piece of parchment that hadn't been there before. Tilting her head she looked at it curiously, and then snatched off the tabletop. It had no seal, and so Hermione opened it cautiously. 

            _'Miss Granger,_

_We're waiting for you down in the foyer. If you would be so kind as to grace us with your presence, I'd be very much obliged. _

_            Lucius_

            _'Ah,'_ thought Hermione, as she grabbed her cloak and crossed the room to the door, _'when he puts it like that...'_

            Walking down the corridor to the main stairs, Hermione assessed her situation. She had prepared for this _meeting_ for a very long time, and now that it was about to happen she was…excited. Sure, she was having the token anxieties, she was after all meeting Lord Voldemort, but…it was hard to explain, even to herself. _'It's like going to a practical exam,' _her subconscious reasoned, _'you've prepared for it for so long, and now you finally have the opportunity to prove you know not just the theory, put the theory in practice.'_ Hermione liked that. 

            Arriving at the end of the corridor, she stood at the top of the stairs looking down at Lucius and Draco dressed in their Death Eater attire. The black robes swirled around Draco's feet as he impatiently shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Neither one was wearing their mask. "Gentlemen," Hermione drawled –  a drawl that was worthy of a Malfoy – as she descended the stairs, "Don't we all just look darling in our matching ensembles."

Lucius chuckled, "This is not something to take lightly, my dear." He extended his arm to her as he meet her at the bottom of the stairs. Hermione quirked an eyebrow, causing Lucius to smile.

 Draco, rolling his eyes, pushed passed them, and headed out the door. 

            Once the three had crossed out of the Apparation barriers surrounding the Manor, Lucius drew back the left sleeve of his robe, and without letting go of Hermione's arm, brought his right hand over to touch the mark. Hermione closed her eyes against the dizziness commonly associated with the dual Apparation. She'd never been completely comfortable with the idea of somebody else being responsible for her changing of locations. When Hermione felt her feet hit the ground, she opened her eyes gingerly to find that she was on the outskirts of Severus' estate. Remaining in character, however, Hermione looked around, forging confusion, and asked, "Where are we?"

"That's not important my dear." Lucius turned Hermione around to face a waiting carriage. "What is important, however, is that we proceed to our final destination with the utmost haste."

" 'The utmost haste'," Hermione mocked, "It's not 1805."

Lucius helped Hermione step into the black horseless Victorian coach. "My, aren't we clever this evening," he sounded amused, as he stepped in behind her, and sat down beside her. Draco followed, sitting opposite the couple. The door swung shut, and the carriage speed away. 

Hermione smiled at Lucius, "I have my better days." 

Draco chuckled at that, although it was of the cynical sort, "I suppose _that's_ a matter of opinion."

"Most things are," Hermione replied, impassively.

"Not only clever, but philosophical too," Draco countered, "Father, quite the catch you have there."

"Jealous?" Lucius' silky voice reverberated off the padded walls of the coach. Hermione's eyes widened slightly, as Draco turned to look sharply at his father, the surprise evident on his face for a fleeting second. 

"'Jealous' isn't the right adjective." Draco's voice was controlled and even.

Lucius laughed out right at that, "You were always so easy to bait, my son." Draco glared but made no move to reply. 

Lucius reached over, and draped his arm around Hermione, who leaned slightly into him, crossing her legs to get closer, and causing the expensive fabric of her robe to fall away exposing the calves of her legs. "I expect you to behave appropriately this evening, my dear," Lucius whispered softly into Hermione's ear. "The Dark Lord is accustom to having his followers respond certain ways to him. There are appropriate traditions that have to be followed."

"So I was informed this afternoon," she answered, glance briefly at Draco, who, she couldn't help but notice, was staring at her legs. When he felt her gaze on him, he looked up, locking eyes with her. Hermione narrowed her own eyes trying to read what was in his steel grey ones.  They were intense and far colder then she ever remembered seeing them, and yet there was something else…'_perhaps not always the whore?'_ Before she had to time to speculate further, however, the coach stopped, and Lucius stood up, pushing open the door, and stepped gracefully down. "Do not forget our warnings, my dear." 

"Oh, don't worry," Hermione again accepted the offered hand, "I don't plan to forget anything." And what she said was indeed true, but there was a difference between remembering to _use_ what someone told you, and just plain remembering. Hermione smiled to herself as she looked up at the looming castle before them, this was going to be fun. 

**Next Chapter:** And then there was Voldemort…need I say more?

**Author's Notes: **Not much to say this time…the reason, or excuse (depending on your point of view) for the long delay, I was busy, hated the ending, tried to revise the ending, hated the revisions, so I went back to the original last part, and I still don't like it. 

Thank you to every one who reviewed for chapter seven, it truly makes my day to come home and see new reviews. Also, thanks very much to my beta's Stephani and Alex. Also for anyone who's interested, I posted a naughter version of chapter seven at adultfanfiction.net. A special thank you goes out to my betas again who sat down with me, and helped me construct the little nugget. The story appears under the same name at aff.net.


	9. And Then There Was Voldemort

Chapter Nine: And Then There Was Voldemort… 

**Disclaimer: See chapter one**

            Snape Castle was old – even by wizarding standards, having been built when gothic was very much _in_. The eight-story building was constructed of dark granite stone that had been imported from some distant land. Surrounding the courtyard was a nine-foot high circular wall. As a deterrent to curious passers by of the wizarding variety the wall was enchanted to depict several fearsome battle scenes, and because the brick of the wall wasn't even, the pictures had become distorted, and all the more troublesome for it. At the four corners of the castle, and as part of the guard wall, there were spiral look out towers, though they no longer served any purpose. Adoring the front entrance were two similar towers, only those ones were _more _impressive, with the cross-like patterns carved into the dark stone. Individuals' privileged enough to enter the castle through the main entrance were greeted with the sight of the beautiful white fountain, the centerpiece of Snape Castle courtyard, and in harsh contrast with the dark atmosphere. Making up the drive were tiny white stones, which in the right light seemed to sparkle like diamonds. There was a path along the edge of the outside wall, also containing the diamond like stones, and scattered intermittently along the path were smaller versions of the fountain gracing the center of the drive. 

            Upon entering the castle guests would see the spectacular grand staircases that lead to the second floor, which doubled as a dining room, and a ballroom, and could be enchanted to accommodate any party, from two to two hundred. On one side of the stairs was the parlor and conservatory, the other housed Severus' public office, and public library. His more personal books and papers where located on the top three floors, which had always been reserved for the private use of the master of the house. The rooms could be directly Apparated into by their owner, or they could be accessed by a secret stair case; an entrance to which was located on each floor. On the main floor it was hidden behind the fireplace in the public office. The second had it located in the wall, behind the dining room, on the fifth it was in the poolroom. The staircase was always in the same spot, but it could only be opened with the correct sequence on the bricks, much like Diagon Alley.  

            Severus' private rooms consisted of a potions lab, living quarters (bathroom, bedroom, sitting room), and a private office, all of which took up half of the upper three floors. On the other side were the owlery, spa (well known within the upper class ladies of wizarding society), and rooms that would have belonged to a Mrs. Snape. The two halves were separate towers, although if one looked hard enough, and in exactly the right spot, they could find a well-concealed bridge connecting them. People that visited Snape Castle and were rude enough to wonder about what the mysterious tower was, that could be seen from the outside, but never accessed from the within, were simply told that it had never been finished. An oversight made by some insane relative back in the day. 

Surrounding the eight-story building was a small lake like moat, and for all intents and purposes that's all that it was, a moat. However for those that knew better, and for the most part they were of the unsavory sort, the moat actually flowed under the castle and into the little known, rarely talked about dungeons. There were two principle parts of the dungeons. First there was the stone island that sat in the center of the lake. Second, there were the three chambers along the three walls. One was strictly used as a Muggle torture chamber. Within this room could be found ancient Muggle torture instruments. There was the common more ones like the rack, and branding irons, and a chair of spikes, and of course there were also some lesser-known ones. There was a breast ripper (it did exactly what the name implied), the Spanish tickler (a metal claw like device, that was used to removed the skin), the Whirlgig was the tamest instrument, causing only nausea when people were spun violently around in it, and finally, and a favorite of the more perverse Death Eaters, the Pear (a pear shaped device that could be inserted into the oral, anal or vaginal cavity and then expanded, inflicting pain on the sensitive flesh). Voldemort thought that it was particularly ironic to torture Muggle's with their own creations. On the other side of the island was the Wizard torture chamber. It was bare except for a large surgical table in the center. The back wall had several holding cells, and a few wall chains for when Death Eaters were feeling especially creative. To access these dungeons (or escape from them, depending on your point of view) visitors used boats that could be found under the bridges that existed to cross the moat. The secret staircase also went down into the dungeon, but it was difficult to find, and even when an individual happened across the right bricks they had to know all the wards in addition to the brick sequence. Voldemort was incredibly fond of meeting in the bowels of Snape Castle, and he did so quite often. He liked the security, and he liked the atmosphere. 

***

            Hermione sat on the cold stone bench, tapping her foot impatiently against the hard floor, and listened to the sound bounce off the walls of the aforementioned Muggle torture chamber. When the boat had gone to this side of the dungeons instead of the stone island in the center, Hermione had been a little worried, and Lucius telling her, through his mask, that she was to wait here until she was summoned didn't make her feel any better. However, as she sat with nothing much to think about, she realized that it made sense, Voldemort wasn't going to let her know everything – that was just too dangerous. Plus, Hermione conceded, this little down time gave her a second to gather her composure, and adjust her eyes to the reduced light.   

            She had always hated the masks that the Dark Lord made his followers wear at their meetings, and during midnight raids. They'd always made her skin crawl as she looked at the cold silver. For some people the masks made facing the Death Eaters easier; they made the enemy anonymous. But for Hermione, who wasn't there to kill anyone, the facelessness only meant that she had no idea whom she was talking to. It could be anyone. It could be old acquaintances from Hogwarts, or friends from work. Of course Severus, and Lucius, and Draco, and McClure, and all the usual suspects were the there, but who else?

            Hermione stood up, and began to pace the length of the dark, cold room; the steel of the torture instruments sending a shiver down her spine. _'How long is he going to make me wait anyway?'_ She wondered, and was beginning to think that perhaps she should just go over there on her own. After all she did still have her wand, which surprised her. She had been prepared to give it to Lucius the moment that they left the Manor, but he had never asked for it, and she wasn't going to just give it to him voluntarily. 

            Sighing, Hermione realized that she wasn't concentrating; she had to get in the right mind set. And being calm was essential. Sitting back down on the bench, she rested her head against the wall, and forced her self to relax.

            Hermione didn't have to wait much longer to be summoned, just as she was getting comfortable, well as comfortable as could be considering, she saw a flash of blue light, and then a stone bridge appeared at the entrance to the room she presently occupied. Standing up, she inhaled once, and crossed the distance between herself and the walkway. As she approached the middle of the bridge, she peered through the archways surrounding the central island, and saw that there where about a hundred Death Eaters in attendance. Hermione counted about twenty in the circle that Voldemort sat at the head of, and the other eighty or so followers flank the main players. She couldn't see Voldemort yet, and she had a feeling that she was not as prepared for that as she should be. As Hermione slowly approached, the Death Eaters parted to allow her to see the center of the circle where there was a wooden stool; presumably she going to occupy it later when she would be questioned. 

            There was a hush over the room, and the sound of Hermione's footsteps echoed in her ears. _'Alright girl,'_ she told herself as she stepped onto the island and walked toward that little stole, _'this is it.'_

            "So, it occurred to me, as I was crossing that little bridge," Hermione turned to face Voldemort, and steeled her face against the ugliness of the man…snake…thing, she could taste bile at the back of her throat, "That if you wanted to kill me it would have been so easy for those stones to have fall out under my feet. Into the moat I would have gone." She smiled at the Dark Lord as she took a seat on the stool. Her focus was completely on him, on his beady little red eyes, that appeared to be slightly widened. 

"It occurs to _me_, Miss Granger, that you forget your place." Voldemort did not sound amused.

Hermione shrugged, unconcerned, tilting her head slightly. All around her she could feel the tension hanging over her like a suffocating blanket. It was becoming hard to breath, but she pushed forward anyway. "I suppose you expected me to grovel at your feet? Offer you my sincerest apologies for my parenting? And beg your forgiveness so that I can join your little group of power hungry cretins?" She paused, glancing quickly around the circle to regain her composure before continuing, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, _master,_ but I have no intention of being another faceless automaton that you can dispose of at your earliest convenience."

"And what makes you assume," Hermione was surprised that Voldemort didn't sound angry. As it was he sounded more indifferent then anything, "That I won't dispose of you now, on account of your insolence?"

"I don't," Hermione admitted. "But I can _assume_ that it must get rather boring having everyone bow before you, and hang off your every word like you were some kind of god. Everybody likes to be challenged occasionally."

"Be that as it may, Miss Granger, what makes you presume that you are the one to challenge me?"

At that Hermione genuinely smiled, "If you wanted another mindless follower, Lord Voldemort, you would not have brought me here, nor would you have allowed me to live very long after I divulged your little secret."

"Which brings us to why you _are_ here. I was not pleased about what you did." This time the voice was controlled, no longer indifferent. 

"I didn't think you would be."

"What no apology? Miss Granger I am becoming quite infuriated." Hermione believed him. She could tell that she was treading on dangerous ground, as his brow knotted slightly, and she supposed if he had eyebrows they would have been moving steadily closer together. "As punishment for your lack of remorse I will administer Veritaserum." Voldemort raised his hand, and handed a small vial to the man on his right. The man, whom Hermione suspected to be Severus, accepted the glass bottle, and walked towards her. 

"I'm surprised you didn't offer me wine laced with the truth potion. I expected something much more covert." Hermione allowed a note of confusion to slip into her voice as she began to take control of her brain. She knew that this was what would happen, Voldemort was too arrogant to believe that anyone could actually control Veritaserum, and so the need for secrecy was eliminated.  

            The man with the vial stopped beside Hermione, and looked to the Dark Lord for permission, and Voldemort inclined his head slightly. The man grabbed Hermione roughly under the chin, and forced the glass to her lips. She drained the contents in one gulp, and turned back to Voldemort as the man retreated. "There was no need to be forceful, I would have consumed the potion voluntarily. I have nothing to hide."

"Time will tell," was all Voldemort would say. 

As they waited for the appropriate amount of time to pass before the serum would take affect, Hermione began to take control. She could feel the serum coursing through her veins, and being pumped back to her heart, and up to her brain. In her mind's eye she visualized the neurons that were about to be shut down, and concentrated on keeping the signals flowing through them. It would take five minutes for her to render the potion ineffective, and she had to keep very, very calm._ One minute._ She wanted to close her eyes, knowing that she could not. It would make everything much easier, not knowing were she was, or who was sitting in front of her. As she felt them flutter close, she blinked rapidly, and curled her toes in her shoes. _Two minutes._ Hermione began to systematically clench and unclench all the muscles in her body starting at her feet, and ending at her shoulders. Severus had told her it would help her remain focused, but not over focused. _"It is a delicate balance,"_ he had said. _Three minutes._ This was the crucial part, now the serum would take on a life of it's own, and fight to get the control that it was designed to have. She focused in on the neuron, seeing the pictures from the textbooks that she had studied about the brain. _'Force the spark to keep flowing. FORCE IT.'_ She commanded herself, and it worked. _Four minutes._ Now she just had to keep the spark going for another minute and she would be home free. She knew she'd done it, just like she'd always known in the last minute. She inner self was jumping for joy. _Five minutes._ Hermione slumped on the stool. Question period was about to begin. 

***

Voldemort stood up from his throne, and slowly walked towards Hermione. As he reached her, he extended his hand, and lifted her chin up to face him. He gazed in her eyes for a moment, noticing the glazed look, and let her head drop down again. "Alright, Miss Granger," Hermione looked up in his general direction, her eyes still glassy, "I'm going to ask you a series of questions, and you're going to answer them. I'm sure you know the drill." Hermione nodded. "Miss Granger," Voldemort had returned to his seat. "Do you think that Veritaserum is an appropriate price for retribution?"

"No," Hermione answered, this time completely honest, "You would have given it to me anyway."

Voldemort tilted his head, "How astute. Do you regret what you told the guests at Lucius' dinner party?"

Still she didn't have to lie, "No, the look on Draco's face was worth it." 

"I'm sure you're pleased to hear you are quite entertaining for Miss Granger, Draco." Voldemort sounded amused.

"I do what I can, sir," came the dry reply from somewhere to Hermione's right.

Voldemort laughed outright at that. "Why did you choose to contact Lucius?"

Hermione didn't hesitate, "Because he made an offer, and I accepted." This was also true – Lucius had been at the alumni party at Hogwarts, the party at which Hermione had openly displayed her discontent with Dumbledore and the Resistance, and Lucius had implied that she should contact him about her future. It was what they – the Resistance – had all been looking for. 

"And now I understand that you are living at Malfoy Manor, quite curious."

"The living arrangements are mutually beneficial." Hermione supposed _that_ was a matter of opinion.

"I imagine it would have to be, I hear Lucius can be quite demanding," what Voldemort was implying was overly obvious.

Hermione accepted the challenge, "Not so much so that I can't handle him." 

Again Voldemort laughed, and this time he wasn't the only one, "She quite confident, Lucius. Is she as good as she implies?"

"No," this time the voice was to Hermione's left, "But she's getting there, my lord." This sparked another round of laugher.

"I suppose it's only fair to ask you the same question, Miss Granger." Voldemort was obviously enjoying himself.

Hermione thought quickly, she either had to repeat what she had said to Lucius the night before, or "He's better then I've let on." That caused a laugh to come from that some spot to Hermione's left. 

"So Miss Granger," Voldemort's voice was now deadly serious, "Why are you sitting here answering embarrassing questions about yourself?" 

"As I told Lucius, I don't like living in the shadows." Hermione's voice remained monotone.  

"And you think you will be able to shine here, if you change sides?"

"I don't imagine that my talents will go unnoticed." 

"I suppose Lucius has already proven that," soft chuckles rippled through the crowd. _'He's not that_ _funny,'_ Hermione thought, as she formulated her next response.

"It's not Lucius' recognition that I'm looking for." 

"Interesting admission."

"Yes, well, I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"No, I suppose you don't," Voldemort admitted pensively. "You are quite clever though, something decidedly unGryffindor. I'm curious, Miss Granger, were did you learn this cleverness?"

"I wouldn't say that I learnt it anywhere, per se," Hermione saw this as her chance to reveal something that she wouldn't otherwise. "I'm just naturally apt at manipulation. I've always envied Slytherins. No one says to them that they have to be brave, loyal people. I want to be able to display my Slytherin qualities openly." Even though it wasn't true, the statement would serve its purpose. 

"So as much as you want recognition, you want people to know what you really are?" Hermione nodded, "Yes."

"And who is that, Miss Granger?" 

"Some one that you will find invaluable."

"I can see why Lucius likes you, your confidence is surprisingly enduring."

"Thank you," She replied not at all meaning it. 

"But you still haven't answered my question."

"Some one with the persona of a lion, and the heart of a snake."

"How poetic," Hermione was sure that, if it were possible, Voldemort would have rolled his eyes. "Alright, how do you expect to get this recognition you so desperately crave?"

"I can do many things, Lord Voldemort. You tell me what you need, and I'll make it happen."

Voldemort was beginning to look bored. "One final question, Miss Granger, if I asked you to kill you parents, as proof of your loyalty, could you do it?"

Hermione hadn't been prepared for that, and she cursed silently, "No," she answered honestly because she knew if she said yes that he would make her.

Voldemort looked at her hard for a moment, studying her slumped posture, and the lines on her face. "Severus the antidote," he said to the man that had administered the Veritaserum. Severus walked over to Hermione, and handed her a vial filled with a transparent green liquid, it was slightly bigger then the vial with the truth serum in it.

"Thank you," she said as she took the bottle to her lips, it too was swallowed in one gulp. Of course it had no affect, no poison, no need for an antidote, but it didn't harm her. And after waiting for a few minutes, Hermione sat up straighter. The room came rushing back into focus. Her concentration on her responses, and her tight control, had caused her to lose focus of everything but the sound of Voldemort's voice, and the occasional interjection made by Draco and Lucius. Now she glanced around at the shadows, and the people in long black robes came back into focus. She directed her attention to where she thought Lucius' voice had come from earlier, "Well that was fun," she said.

"Miss Granger take your place in the circle behind Lucius," Hermione looked at Voldemort sharply, confused. "The meeting is almost over, but you can stay for the closing ceremonies." Hermione stood up slowly and cross the floor in the direction that Voldemort was pointing. 

            As she moved in to the spot that had opened up for her behind Lucius, she heard him whisper "good job". She wasn't certain whether it was tongue-in-cheek or not.

***

            As it turned out, the 'closing ceremonies' were nothing spectacular. Some Dark spell was said, there was a glowing flask, and then every one took a drink of the sacramental wine. Hermione wasn't sure what all the fuss was about, in her opinion it tasted liked boxed wine, but the Death Eaters seemed to like it, and so she played along. When the whole thing was over they all kneeled as Voldemort left. Hermione, deciding that it was a good time to conform, knelt with them. Once the Dark Lord had departed, the group started to make there way to the various boat docks. Eventually there was only Hermione, Lucius and Severus left, apparently Draco had gone with some one else. Hermione wasn't looking forward to the conversation that was about to happen. _'Severus, and Lucius, together…great, just great!'_

            Severus removed his mask, and glanced quickly at Hermione before approaching Lucius; who had also removed his mask. She was very thankful for the small grace. "I'm surprised Lord Voldemort didn't kill you for that girl's disobedience," Severus said to his counterpart.

"I can't really disagree with that, Severus." Lucius admitted, as Hermione stepped forward slightly to be part of the conversation, "I did give her the meeting procedures, but apparently she didn't understand the risks associated with not following them."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "And here I thought I wasn't invisible. What a wonderful gift I've been blessed with." She sighed loudly, "I knew the risks I was taking, Lucius, but as I told Voldemort, I will not be another faceless automaton. Anyway it seemed to go well."

"Yes," Severus agreed, "Surprisingly well." Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't just talking about Lucius' fate. 

"Well, 'alls well that ends well' I suppose," Lucius remarked thoughtfully. "But I fear that we must bid you good evening, Severus, its late."

"As you wish, Lucius," came the response. "What time should I expect you tomorrow evening?" _'What?'_ Hermione thought, trying not to let her confusion show. A knot of anxiety was beginning to form in her abdomen.

"Miss Granger, and myself will be here for dinner around seven. If that's not too inconvenient?"

"Absolutely not." With the echo in the dungeons, it was hard to tell if Severus was being sarcastic. "That will be perfect."

"Wonderful," Lucius drawled, extending his arm for Hermione, "Shall we, my dear."

Hermione nodded, "Until tomorrow night, Professor."

"Good evening." 

With that, Lucius turned Hermione to the awaiting boat, and helped her in, steering her away from Severus. 

The response Severus had given, 'good evening', was so familiar, and yet he made it so closed. Hermione wasn't sure how she was going to get through a dinner with him, and Lucius, and come to think of it, she wasn't sure why there even had to be one. It didn't make sense for Severus to put her in a position like that. Hermione turned to ask Lucius about it, but noticing his strained face, decided that she could wait until the morning. And so the journey back to the Manor was made in silence. 

Chapter Last Updated: 03/02/03 

**Author's Notes:** The description of Snape's Castle is what took this chapter so long. I even had specks of it that were drawn by Stephani, my beta. 

Finally a thank you to Alex who was the sole beta for this chapter, thank you. Also, Alex has drawn some lovely Harry Potter pictures, and if you're a fan of Snape, you enjoy the Weasley twins, or Tom Riddle (before he was a snake) take a look. Really, if you enjoy Harry Fan-Art take a look. They're horrible under reviewed, so if you could find it in you're hearts to leave a comment, I know she'd be thrilled. (She doesn't know that I've done this either). The link is below.  

Thank you, 

Jessica


	10. Entertainer Sevvie to the Rescue!

Chapter Ten: Entertainer Sevvie to the Rescue! 

Disclaimer: See chapter one 

            Lucius' gloved hand reached out to knock on the arched teak door that the couple now stood in front of. Upon arriving home after the Death Eater meeting last night, Lucius had promptly disappeared, and Hermione hadn't seen him until a couple hours before they were to leave for dinner at Snape Castle. When he finally had come to speak with her, he had been considerably less angry then Hermione had anticipated. Although he spent some time _explaining_ why what she had done was a bad idea, he'd indicated that as long as Voldemort was amused then he had no complaints. Hermione had been relieved. While she'd been prepared to deal with an angry Lucius, it certainly didn't make her top ten things-to-do-before-she-died list. 

            As for Hermione herself, she had spent a good part of the day reflecting on what she _had_ done the night before and everything had gone exceptionally well. She was more then pleased with her performance; her responses had been well placed, and used in the best way possible. Voldemort had even said he found her confidence enduring, which was, of course, exactly what she had been looking for. It was only the question about her parents that bothered her, and it was the question more then the response. There was no way that she was prepared to kill her parents for this, and it was important that Voldemort and, she realized, Severus as well as the entire Resistance movement, understand where she stood. What worried her was that Voldemort had even asked. If he was asking the question he had at the very best entertained the idea, and at the very worst was going to put some sort of plan into action. She had debated asking Lucius about it, but decided against that, knowing that he would be less then forth-coming with information about it. Her only option was to get a private audience with Severus at some point in the evening, and that plan had gotten easier as she and Lucius had been leaving the Manor. 

             Apparently, something important was going to happen at Malfoy Manor this evening, and Lucius didn't want her there. Draco, who had been coming in the door (returning from some sort of Death Eater raid) as she and Lucius were leaving, had informed her of this. Well he really hadn't told _her_ so much as he had asked Lucius what he was going to do with Hermione this evening. Lucius had answered she was to stay at Snape Castle, and that was the end of that. Hermione had forged anger and shock, but really she'd been relieved. One Death Eater gathering a week was quite enough for her, and she still wasn't sure she could stomach watching Lucius torture someone that could so easily be her.   

            The door swung open in front of her, and the man beside her gently guided her into the castle. Hermione and Lucius were led to the small library to the right of the entrance hall. The room was full of fairly generic books, on topics that didn't even begin to scratch the surface of Severus' interest. There was a fireplace on the far wall. It was everything that one would expect in an old wizarding home. Ornately decorated, with a large mantle with several seldomly used liquor bottles resting on top of it. In front of the fire were several couches and chairs, the prefect room for receiving guests. It was there that the man that owned this library sat, a snuffer of brown liquid held delicately in his hand, and he was of coursed dressed all in black.

"Lucius," he drawled as he stood up to shake the other man's hand, "And Miss Granger, always a pleasure. Can I get you something to drink?" He inquired indicating that they should sit.

"Thank you," Lucius replied, dragging Hermione down next to him on the green leather couch opposite were Severus had been sitting. "I'll have whatever you're having."

"And for the lady?" Severus was obviously mocking her.

"Nothing, thank you." Hermione's response was curt.

"As you wish," he handed Lucius a glass, the same as his own only fuller, and resumed his seat. "That was quite the show you put on last night, Miss Granger."

"Please call me Hermione," she countered, "And Lucius said the same thing. I really wasn't trying to be amusing." 

"No, I don't suppose you were, Miss Granger," the emphasis that Severus put on her name forced her to repress a shudder. _'That's not playing fair,' _she thought. 

Lucius snorted, "I find it hard to believe that you didn't know what you were doing, my dear."

"_I _find it hard to believe," Severus interject before Hermione could respond to Lucius, "That you would do something so very unGryffindor. What every happened to Misers Potter and Weasley?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her former teacher, "I have no doubt that they continue to battle the forces of darkness in the same chauvinistic manner that they always have." Severus raised an eyebrow, smirked slightly and turned away from her. 

"So, Severus," Lucius took up the conversation, "Where's your companion for the evening?" At that Hermione turned to look at Severus shapely, and thanked everything that was holy that Lucius was not looking at her.

"Miss Labelle should be joining us shortly," was Severus' nonchalant reply. 

Hermione tilted her head to the side, "The Professor has a _date_? Will wonders never cease?" The shock, and slight repulsion in Hermione's voice was not entirely false.

"I suppose your proof positive of that, Miss Granger."

Hermione chuckled. "So who's the unsuspecting victim of your charms?" _'What the hell are you doing?'_ Her inner voice was shouting. She didn't have a reply for herself, or at least not one that she was willing to entertain at the moment.

"Tsk, tsk, my dear," Lucius mocked, "There's no need to get vicious with our host." Hermione glared at him.

"Babette Labelle is a recent graduate of Beauxbatons. She's come to me as an apprentice of my craft." 

"Well isn't that lovely," Hermione replied, her tongue firmly planted in her check. "I suppose were going to have to listen to her accent for the duration of the evening then?"

Severus shook his head, and Hermione had the distinct impression that he wasn't just answering her question. 

"Actually, Miss Granger," came a crystal clear voice from the door. Hermione jumped. "I've been working on that. What do you think?"

Hermione coughed uneasily, "Very impressive, Miss Labelle was it?" Hermione turned in her chair to better address the woman, and had to force herself not to gape. Standing seductively in the doorway was a tall sleek woman that reminded Hermione very much of Fleur Delacour. She was dressed in low cut blue dress robes that had silver silk cuffs, and a silver hem. Her long blond hair was secured in a ponytail at the base of her neck. As she pushed herself off the door jam, and crossed the room, Hermione noted resentfully that Babette had something that Fleur did not. While she moved with the same grace and poses of the other woman, Babette did not have the same arrogance that Hermione had always observed from Fleur. And Hermione realized that made this Babette character far more likable. Hermione instantly hated her.  

            Lucius stood as the woman approached, and taking her hand brought it to his lips, "Miss Labelle, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Babette smiled sweetly, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy, your reputation proceeds you, and please call me Babette."

"As you must call me Lucius," Babette nodded. "Severus where did you ever find this beauty?" 

"As I said before, she's here as an apprentice," the other man commented dryly.

"Yes," affirmed Babette, "I've always enjoyed the complexity of potions. I hear you're also quite talented in the area, Miss Granger."

Hermione's smile was obviously forced, "Yes well," she turned to Severus, "Perhaps I will have that drink after all."

"Let me get that for you." Babette crossed to the mantle. 

"So how long have you been studying with Severus?" Lucius asked, watching her back as she retreated. 

"For about at year." _'What,'_ Hermione thought mentally recapping the last year, _'but Severus never mentioned you.'_ "Would anyone else like a refill on their drink, Severus…Lucius?" Both men shook their heads.

Babette handed Hermione her glass, "Here you are Herm-"

"Its Miss Granger," she snapped, snatching the drink from her. Lucius laughed, but said nothing. 

Babette looked at her slightly confused for a moment, and then nodded, "Miss Granger then. But I would be much more comfortable if you would call me Babette." She sat down next to Severus.   
  


Hermione smiled, taking a long swing of the red wine, and sunk back into the couch. She tuned out all conversation, as she watched the young blonde sitting next to Severus, with his arm resting behind her head. She was jealous. Why she was jealous was unclear. But she was. If Severus had been working with this girl for a year, why hadn't he mentioned her? Technically her training had ended a year and a half ago, but still…! Unless…unless Severus was training this girl as a new spy. She supposed that was possible, but traditionally spies were not that pretty, nor did they get that cozy on the sofa with their trainers. Hermione took another sip of her drink, and glanced at Lucius. He was carrying on a conversation with Babette, and he appeared to be enjoying himself. Hermione was thankful for that, he would pin her jealous reaction earlier on his interest in Severus' _date_. Hermione mentally slapped herself, she'd preformed quite poorly. She was supposed to be in control all the time, and she obviously wasn't. It didn't help that she'd fucked up in front of her instructor either. _'Bravo Hermione. Bravo!'_

            Hermione was forced to concentrate again when she heard her name, "Miss Granger?" Babette looked concerned.

"Sorry," Hermione lied, "I got distracted. You were saying?"

"Oh, um, Severus was just mentioning that you and I will be spending the evening together." The blonde sounded genuinely pleased.

"What," Hermione cried, "You're staying here?" She forced her voice back to a neutral tone. 

"Yes," Babette looked slightly confused.

"It better facilitates her training, Miss Granger," Severus continued for her. "Besides we wouldn't want you to be by yourself in the castle."

Hermione sighed, "No, I suppose _that_ would be too much to hope for."

"Well, anyway," Babette continued, as if Hermione hadn't spoken, "I was thinking that you and I just have to go swimming in Severus' lovely pool. It'll be just wonderful, you can tell me all about you time at Hogwarts, and your job at the Ministry."

"I can't wait." Hermione recovering from her initial shock managed to make the sincerity of her response fairly believable. 

Lucius smirked at Hermione, "I'm sorry I'm going to miss that." He sounded truly regretful. Hermione glared, rolling her eyes at him. Lucius' smirk only grew wider. 

"Well," said Severus, standing up, "I think it's time that we head upstairs for dinner."

***

            Dinner was served in the second floor dinning room. The ballroom had been blocked off and enchanted to look like any other floor. Severus, it appeared, had also rearranged the dining room, that could have easily accommodated four hundred, but now comfortably housed four. Hermione sat across from Babette, and did her best not to glare at the woman. She was _almost_ succeeding. As they moved through the meal, Lucius and Severus exchanged family news and business information. Hermione, glad that she was not expected to make pleasant conversation, sat quietly and tried not to look bored. Eventually dessert and coffee appeared, and Hermione was beginning to think that she might actually escape this evening only slightly singed when Miss Labelle seemed to decide otherwise. 

            "So, Miss Granger," came the voice from the woman across the table, "How are things going at the Ministry?"

Hermione, desperate to save face in front of Severus, smiled pleasantly, "I like what I do."

"More like who you're doing," muttered the silky voice to her right.

"I beg you're pardon," Hermione glared indignantly at Severus. 

"I'm sure you'd beg a lot more if I let you."

Lucius chuckled, "The man makes a good point."

"Oh," Hermione turned towards the blonde man, "Which one?"

Lucius considered, "Both."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her escort and was about to reply when Babette, who was looking uncomfortable at the plate in front of her interjected. "So what exactly do you do, Miss Granger? I know you work in the scientific department, but…" she trailed off.

"Besides being the company whore?" Hermione turned from Lucius towards Babette, "I work on a research team that is responsible for breaking down the chemical composition of various magical agents." _'And as a side project,' _she thought to herself,_ 'I'm fucking Lucius Malfoy.' _

"How interesting," Babette did indeed sound genuinely interested. "And for a Muggle born…well that's just fantastic."

Out of the corner of her eye Hermione watch Severus for a reaction, and got none. She creased her brow, "I'm not certain what that has to do with anything." _'If he's training her, she would know not to bring up my Muggle parentage. Which could mean…' _Hermione didn't want to consider _that_.  

"Well with You-Know-Who, and all…I'm just surprised it has never been an issue." Babette tried to recover.

"Voldemort doesn't control everything, Miss Labelle. Whatever you may have been told," here Hermione allowed a quick glance at Severus, even though she was fairly certain that Babette had drawn that particular conclusion for herself. 

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, my dear." Lucius said, "Voldemort is far more powerful then you'd think."

Hermione shook her head, "I some how doubt that."

"Oh?"

"I don't get the impression that Voldemort is the type of individual who would conceal just how powerful he is."

"And you are the resident expert, Miss Granger," the Potions Master replied dryly.

"I didn't say I was an expert, _Severus_–" she earned a glare for that "–I'm just saying that he has no reason to hide anymore."

"Why not 'anymore'?" Severus asked, and Hermione got the distinct impression that he was testing her. _'Fine!'_

"Well Dumbledore is a slip of the man that he used to be, surely Voldemort's not still afraid of him." It wasn't true, but Lucius wouldn't know either way. "And Harry Potter…well if he was going to destroy Voldemort he would have done it by now. And that," she turned to Severus, "I am the resident expert on." 

"And now the lady makes her point," again Lucius chuckled. _'Point and match, Severus,'_ she triumphant. 

"And of course now that you've joined the ranks we're unstoppable," mocked the Professor.

"I'm not a full fledged member…yet."

"So how powerful is Lord Voldemort then?" Babette asked.

"Powerful enough to be acknowledged by the Ministry and the wizarding community at large," Hermione answered.

"And feared by said community," added Lucius. 

"I see." Babette considered, "And how does that translate on paper, so to speak?"

"It means," Severus explained, matter-of-factly, "That Voldemort all but runs the Ministry. Although, contrary to what Miss Granger would have you believe, he does not openly acknowledge that."

"Why not?"

"Because, and again contrary to Miss Granger, Dumbledore, and even Harry Potter, are still to be feared."

"Oh, I don't know, Severus," Lucius said conversationally. "Dumbledore _is_ getting old, he can't protect Hogwarts forever."

"Perhaps not," the other man conceded, "But he's doing a find job of it at the moment. Now is not the time to underestimate."

"So how powerful is Dumbledore?" Babette seemed to be the only one not up to speed. _'Unusual for a guest of Severus','_ Hermione thought, even if she was a little curious to see how he answered the question.

"Albus Dumbledore will one day fail, but I do not think that it will be one day soon. He controls his own part of the wizarding world, and those that grace his inner circle are completely loyal to him."

"It's unfortunate, my dear," said Lucius, "That you are no longer part of that inner circle. We could have really used someone on the inside."

Hermione smiled, "What makes you think that I ever was?"

"So it's a stalemate, then," Babette mused. 

"Something like that," Lucius grinned at her. "This war, if that's even the right name for it, isn't one of heroic battles of good and evil; the lines of black and white are far to blurred for that. No, this war will be won by small gains and cleverly laid plots. It's become a game, of sorts."

"Like chess," Babette supplied.

Lucius nodded pensively, "Yes, a game of chess."

Hermione studied him closely for a moment, "And the final battle?" She inquired. 

"Well my dear," Lucius voiced slipped out of the somber tone that he had been using, and into something more cheerful and mocking; more Lucius. "There will of course be a finale of sorts. Although I doubt it will be the grand scale affair that most are expecting. I some how picture it ending in a rather anti-climatic battle between Lord Voldemort and Mr. Potter."

"And the winner?"

"That, my dear, remains a mystery." Hermione smiled at him, he certainly was entertaining, on occasion.

"And on that note," Severus stood up from the table, and motioned for Lucius to follow. "We must bid you ladies good evening, and make our departure." Saying their goodbyes, the two men left the room. 

            "So…" said Hermione, watching as the dessert plates disappeared. 

Babette stood up, "Shall I show you to your room?"

Hermione was grateful for the escape. "Yes that would probably be best." She also stood, and followed Babette down the hall, and up the stairs. Leading her past the third floor sitting area, Babette indicated that Hermione was to take the second of two guest suites, more specifically the only guest suite that had direct access to the secret stair case leading to Severus private residence. _'Interesting!'_  "Miss Labelle," Hermione said, catching the girl, as she was about to leave. Apparently they weren't going for that swim after all. "Did the Professor tell you what rooms to put me in?"

"Of course," Babette answered, turning and leaning slightly on the wall. Hermione thought she looked tired. "He specifically instructed me to put you in these rooms. Is there something wrong with them?"

Hermione shook her head, "No not at all. And where are you staying?" She didn't feel like justifying her inquiry, and fortunately Babette did not seem to notice. 

"On the fifth floor. So it will be like you are alone in the castle after all, Miss Granger," and with that Babette was gone. 

            Hermione smiled at her retreating figure, she appreciated cleverness, and more then that subtly, and apparently Miss Labelle had a certain amount of both; pity that the two couldn't get to know each other under better circumstances. _'Oh well,'_ Hermione shrugged and let herself into her room. Glancing around, they were as she remembered them. The wallpaper was still crushed velvet and red, the furniture was still cumbersome and old, and the desk, the one that concealed the entrance to the staircase, was in exactly the same spot. Hermione had foolishly hoped that there would be some sort of note, or indication of what she was suppose to do, but of course Severus would never do anything quite so obvious. She supposed that he did intend for her to end up in his rooms at some point this evening, or he was planning to come and see her, why else would he have put her in these particular rooms when the one across the sitting area was exactly the same, minus one important detail. No, he defiantly intended for them to meet, and Hermione intended for it to be on her terms. 

            Removing her dress robes, she tossed them careless on the bed, and moved towards the bathroom. She would have a bath, if for no other reason then she had some time to kill, and then she would make her way up to Severus' rooms and wait for him to return. 

***

Some time later, Hermione found herself climbing the stairs to Severus' chamber. The passageway itself was nothing spectacular; it was brick, brick, and more brick. And it was very, very dark. The torches that lit up as she passed gave off a minimal amount of light, and would go out again before she reached the next one, causing most of the journey to be in the dark. So Hermione was more then pleased when she felt the latch that opened the door of Severus' rooms. 

            Opening the door, Hermione stepped into the room that she had visited many times during her training. The familiarity of it all made her catch her breath, and she jumped when the door clicked shut behind her. Surrounding her was a state-of-the-art potions lab. Anything that he brewed for the Resistance was done here, as well as a few commercial products he was responsible for. _"We all have to eat," _he told her when she'd teased him about it. And while Hermione humored him his justification, she always figured it had more to do with Severus needing to have something in his life that had nothing to do with Hogwarts, the Death Eaters, or the Resistance. _'Perhaps,'_ Hermione mused, _'that explained Babette?'_

            Above the potions lab was a loft like floor the doubled as sitting room, and a library. Hermione glanced up from were she was standing, and saw that a fire was still lit in the grate. _'Severus wouldn't be away long then.' _ Reaching the loft, Hermione glanced around remembering all the times that she'd spent reading in this room, with Severus working just a floor below her. She'd been happy on those occasions, and he'd seemed far more relaxed. _'As close to domestic bliss as I will ever get,'_ Hermione supposed, and at the thought she let out a cynical laugh that echoed off the stone ceiling. 

            Shaking her head, and deciding not to dwell on that particular revelation, Hermione turned and climbed the spiral staircase, thankfully the last one, to Severus bedroom. It was similar to the one he had at the cottage, and Hermione supposed that he had used this design. It wasn't surprising. The dark burgundy walls looked almost black in the night. The furniture at the cottage was an exact replica of the pieces in this room: dark teak wood bureau to one side, the large four-poster bed in the center of the room, a chest of drawers against one wall, both in the same wood, a dressing chair with Severus' cloths draped over it. So familiar; and not just because of the cottage.

Hermione sat down on the black comforter, her head resting delicately in her hands, and took to studying the Persian rug that covered most of the floor of the bedchamber.

            All she had to do now was wait. 

Chapter Last Updated 03/02/03 

**Author's Notes:** For anyone who's interested there is a Hermione/Lucius group at Yahoo. Here's the web address . It's not much now, but hopefully with some support is should get going. 

Jessica 


	11. Then There Was Two

**A Quick Note:** Because I started this story long before OotP I will largely be ignoring the events of that book. 

**Summary: **Hermione is trying to seduce Lucius Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy is being…well…Lucius. In the mean time Hermione has suffered through a grueling meeting with Lord Voldemort were she was forced to beat the effects of Veritaserum, and then answer several inappropriate questions about her sex life, and also whether or not she could kill her parents if she had to and of course she can't. And as if that wasn't enough for our heroin she had to sit through a rather unpleasant dinner with Severus Snape and his French tart Babette Labelle, who of course Hermione does not like. Plus she had to spend the night at Snape Castle because Lucius is doing some rather nasty things over that the Manor. And now, because she was assigned rooms that give her access to Severus' very secret bed chamber Hermione is there awaiting his return. 

**Chapter Eleven: Then There Was Two**

**Disclaimer: See chapter one**

            The first time Hermione had been in Severus' bedchamber had been six months after the infamous "birds and the bees" discussion. She'd been so very nervous about the whole thing. Severus thought it would be best to complete the sexual training at his castle, believing that it would allow the cottage to be a safe place of sorts. Plus if he told her they were going to the castle she had no doubt what was going to happen. Over the months of training Hermione was grateful for the distinction. But on that first night the change of location had only made her more frightened. 

            As she'd been instructed the day before, Hermione Apparated to the edge of Snape castle grounds just as the sun was setting behind the looming building in front of her. She was greeted by a noiseless carriage, which carried her through the front archway and up to the front door. Climbing the steps, Hermione knocked once on the door and gingerly step inside as it opened to reveal the grand foyer. 

            After she located Severus, who had been waiting in the study, the two had a small dinner, followed by a quick tour of the more "public" areas of his castle. Then he'd taken her across the bridge that joined the two towers, saying that he would show her the _more_ secret entrance on another visit. At that point Hermione had made an uneasy joke about secrecy, which Severus ignored, and the two remained in silence until they reached his bedchamber.

            Hermione balled her hand in to a fist, "So…" she said, looking down, and bring her fist around to hit the back of her neck.

"Uncomfortable, Miss Granger?" Severus asked, as he magicked his clothes from the chair across from the bed and sat down.

"What was your first clue?" She sighed. "It would help if you called me Hermione you know."

"Would it?"

She met his eyes, "Maybe not," she admitted.

"There really is no need to be nervous," he said. Although his tone didn't quite reach reassuring, his eyes did. "I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do. At least not right now."  

"But eventually you will." She tried to sound impassive but failed as her breath caught on the last word.

Severus stood up, and nodded, "But not tonight, Hermione."  He brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"But not tonight," she whispered back. 

And then he was kissing her.    

            Hermione touched her fingers to her lips at the memory, letting out a soft sigh. And then promptly shook her head and stood up. She was mad at Severus, Hermione reasoned as she began to pace, and she was going to stay mad. And then her body went ridged and she strained her ears to hear what could only be him climbing up the stairs. Hermione inhaled deeply throw he noise, and let the breath out in a whoosh as the door swung open to reveal a very threatening Severus Snape. Hermione involuntarily took a step back the last of her breathe catching in her throat. 

"Miss Granger," Severus ground out. 

"I was kind of hoping that we could drop the formalities, Severus." She smiled sweetly, despite being more then a little bit afraid. 

"And I was hoping to have a peaceful night with few interruption," came the reply. "But as you can see…" he trailed off, gesturing towards her. 

"Look," Hermione pleaded, dropping the façade, "I know you're angry with me–" 

"What was your first clue?" Severus drawled taking a step towards her, even as Hermione stepped further back. She was painfully aware that she was quickly running out of room to retreat. 

"I know you're angry," she repeated, choosing to ignore the interruption, "But," she continued, "You _had_ to know that I would use the secret passage to come up here. You did select the rooms for me after all."

"Perhaps it was a test," he countered, again moving to close the gap. This time she did not retreat.

"A test?" Now it was Hermione's turn to be angry, "I'm sorry, but you lost the right to test me when I was put in _that_ house. I'm no longer you pupil, _Professor_."

"Regardless, it was still foolish to come up here, and you know it. What if I had brought Lucius back with me because he had wanted to see you? How would you have explained your absence, and subsequent return?"

"I warded the door," she answered confidently, even though she knew it was a lie. "It's charmed to warn me if Lucius approached. I would have made it back in loads of time."

"Lie," Severus whispered, grabbing her arm tightly. She had not realized that he was that close, or _that_ angry. 

"No," Hermione answered, trying to shrug out of his grip. "I wouldn't lie to–"

"Stop!" Severus commanded, tightening his grip on her arm to the point that she thought she might cry out in pain. "Do not finish that sentence, and do not lie to me. I stopped by your room when I returned and I assure you the door was very much not warded."

"Let go of my arm," Hermione said calmly, looking him straight in the eyes. "You're hurting me." Hermione saw both angry, and remorse flicker briefly over his eyes before he dropped her arm and stepped back.

"You promised never to lie to me," his voice was as steady as it had been, betraying nothing.

"And you promised never to hurt me."

"You know you shouldn't be here, Hermione." He said softly not looking at her.

"Yes, I suppose I do," she conceded. "But then you should have had Babette put me in a different room. If I recall correctly, the one across the foyer is just as nice."

"You really should have warded your door."

Hermione gave him a half smile, "I know, I just…well…forgot, actually."

"You forgot?" He did not try to mask the condescending nature of the statement.

"Yes, and I'm sorry," she spat, rolling her eyes, and turning away. "But I'm tired. I'm tired of Lucius, I'm tired of Draco, and Voldemort, and this _game_, and having to think of everything all time. And I'm tired of you, and I'm tired of being someone I'm not. Because let me assure you, Severus," she let out a harsh laugh, wheeling around to look him square on, "I don't like the person that you've made me."   

Severus shrugged, "Well," he said offhandedly, "If it makes you feel any better, I don't really like the person I've made you either. And in fact I'd wager that not many people really like the new you." And then he did that last thing Hermione expected, he smiled at her, and she couldn't help but smile back. 

            Taking the few steps necessary to close the distance between them, Hermione burrowed her head into his chest, although she did not reach out to touch him in any other way. They stood like that for several minutes; Hermione's head bowed seeking comfort, and Severus unmoving staring at some indistinguishable spot on the wall. Then he bowed his own head, and brought his hand up to gently stroke her hair. "I've missed you," he whispered, the hair muffling his voice. And that was all Hermione need to bring her own arms up and around to embrace him. Pulling back slightly she lifted her head up to smile at him. And then he was kissing her; just like he had the first night she'd been here. Only this time, she was kissing back, and she was not nearly as afraid as she had been so long ago. 

***

            Later, Hermione rested her head on Severus' shoulder, her hand tracing patterns on his chest, and stomach. Severus had fallen asleep some time ago, and now Hermione was just enjoying the comfort of his arm around her. Well perhaps not enjoying, as much as she was relaxing into the familiarity of it. Hermione sighed, and lifted her head up to look at Severus' sleeping face. It was odd, she thought, that now that she didn't have to be here, this was the only place she wanted to be. On that first night she had come here, and for the many weeks and months that followed, she had been only afraid, and disgusted, and very, very lonely. Who _did_ one talk to about "sexual training"? Although when Hermione thought about it now, she supposed that it was more endurance training then actually learning sexual techniques. Of course she had picked up a few thing that she otherwise would not have known. In this situation question and improvement were expected, it wasn't like sex with one's lover were a critique of ones technique wasn't always appreciated. Severus would tell Hermione where she needed improvement, and how to respond in a given situation, and he also helped her to understand the power of her body, and how to use it to her advantage. Having sex with Severus also helped Hermione to understand dark and powerful men who were used to getting what they wanted. Which was of course beneficial to understanding Lucius. And as for Sex Magic, the power of which had been overstated, and generally only used as a means of torture, not control, Severus and her had only ever delved into the theory. There were some things that even he was not prepared to engage her in. 

            Thus the thought process had always been for Hermione to learn control, and tolerance from her training. Lay with Severus and you could lay with anyone. Except as all the parts of her training with Severus progressed, Hermione found herself more and more fascinated with him, and eager to be in his company. When Hermione had confessed these feelings to him (due to the nature of their relationship honesty about feelings and desires was essential, and confessions like this one came with a relative ease because of the trust and respect that has been built) he had smiled gently at her and told her to forget them. "You are bound to feel that way," he had told her, "It is virtually impossible to have this sort of intimacy with someone without developing a certain infatuation. And now that you have experienced this lust you will know what to expect with Lucius and when the time comes you will be able to control it."

"And so you feel nothing?" She had asked, unable to stop herself.

"Exactly, and in time you will feel the same. As I have indicated before, you will likely come to resent me when this is all over." Hermione hadn't argued with him then, and nor had she ever brought it up again. She agreed with him about feelings being inevitable, but she could not believe that she would ever resent him, and nor did she entirely believe that he felt nothing for her. Even if he was a master of this game, he was too gentle and considerate to be entirely detached. 

            Nevertheless, with so many other things to focus on, Hermione had never spent much time considering what Severus having feelings for her could mean, and just as he had predicted eventually her feelings for him became more of subconscious awareness then an overwhelming force. Now, however, as she lay beside Severus she had all the time that she could possible want, because it was exceedingly difficult to think of anything else. 

            Hermione sighed and snuggled closer, breathing in his scent. Slowly she felt her eyes growing heavier and heavier, and although she really didn't want to, Hermione fell asleep. 

***

            Opening her eyes, Hermione looked up to see black eyes staring into her brown ones. She searching his eyes for a moment, which revealed nothing, Hermione ventured a small smile. Severus responded by reaching up and stroking her cheek softly. "Sleep well?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hermione nodded. "Only when I'm with you."

At that Severus smiled slightly, but said nothing, instead kissing her forehead gently.

After a few moments, Hermione pulled away from him a teasing glint in her eye, and ventured, "Are you still angry with me?"

"You know I'm not," he responded seriously. 

"Good," she rolled away from him on to her back, and allowed her gaze to traveling to the ceiling. "Severus," she to was serious, "why did you allow me access to your rooms?"

There was a long pause and then, "I knew you'd find your way up here with or without my help, and I was feeling uncharacteristically helpful when I left Miss Labelle with her instructions. And," he added after another long pause, "I was curious."

"Ah."

"Hermione you understand why I was angry with you earlier?" His voice had an urgency that implied he very much needed her to understand. 

"Yes," she replied, still they did not look at each other. "You were of course right. I was careless, and I could have jeopardized the whole mission." The thought made Hermione chuckle. "How ironic would that have been? 'She survived a face-to-face conference with the Dark Lord under the supposed influence of Veritaserum,' they'd say, 'but damned if she couldn't resist the temptation to see her…teacher.'"

"That would be rather embarrassing," Severus agreed dryly.

Hermione shook her head, and sat up, the sheet pooling at her hips exposing her naked upper body. "I should go," she said throwing her legs over the side of the bed, knowing she was right, but still not wanting to get up. 

"That would probably be best."

That was the push she had needed. Standing up, she laughed harshly, "You're so predictable." She gathered her robe around her.

"Perhaps," he agreed, sitting up, "but effective."

Hermione shook her head; "I don't suppose your bed will be empty for long though."

"Meaning?" His voice was sharp.

"Meaning that I'm sure Babette Labelle will be happy to keep you company when you're lonely. If not in this bed then perhaps in her own."

"Miss Labelle is nothing more then my apprentice. I am training her as a replacement for me at Hogwarts should anything happen. I asked her to escort me to dinner this evening because it was the best way to introduce her to Lucius without him finding out about her and being suspicious." 

"Oh," Hermione replied her eyes down cast. That did make sense. 

"Furthermore," Severus continued as if she had not spoken. He was sounding less and less pleased as he went on. "I am thoroughly displeased with your performance tonight. It is lucky that Lucius has not reason to suspect that you have any interest in me, and will write you're behavior off as either jealousy at his attention to Miss Labelle, or some old grudge you carry towards me from your time at Hogwarts. And you should be thankful, _Miss Granger_, that Miss Labelle did not draw any attention to your behavior."

"Don't lecture me, Severus," although she only sounded defeated. "I know I screwed up. I was frazzled, and unprepared. I've talked with Lord Voldemort a _day_ ago, and…and you never mentioned her to me."

"It was none of your business, Hermione." His tone was gentler, "You're training had ended before I first met Miss Labelle."

"I know, its just…oh I don't know." She paused and sat down on the chair, defeated. "How can you do this every day?"

"Because I have too, and because I know what would happen if I didn't." That was how he always responded, '_predictable_.'  

"But don't you every just wish, even for just a moment, that you could be your self and damn the consequences?"

Severus looked at her hard for a moment. "Hermione is there something wrong?" And after considering it for a moment, she told him everything she had let Lucius do to her the night before last, although it felt like it was several weeks ago, and as she was talking she realized that it really had bothered her. Even though they hadn't had _sex_ she was still frightened of the control he had had, and they way he manipulated her. She also confessed everything that had been bothering her about her meeting with Voldemort, mainly the conspicuous question about her parents, and how she had told him that she could do anything he asked.

When she was done, Severus watched her for several moments, before nodding his head. "I have nothing to offer that will make your… _experience_ with Lucius any better. Although it has been my experience that a confession often helps. As for you response to Voldemort, I do believe that you could have done better. However, it was truthful enough, and other then that you performance was flawless, so I think we can afford a small slip of the tongue." 

Hermione smiled, "And my parents?"

"I too was surprised by that question, and I spoke to Albus today about increasing the security around your parents. I assure you Hermione they are quite safe at the moment, and I will be listening for even the smallest hint of a plot against them."

She nodded letting it all sink in. "I suppose I'll have to tell all of this to Dumbledore." She sighed, "When is our next meeting?"

Severus thought for a moment, "If you would like I can convey all of what you have told me to him. I know it is sometimes difficult to talk with Albus."

Again she nodded, "Thank you."

Severus raised an eyebrow, "It's the least I can do. Hermione, you understand that after tonight you and I can only see each other in an official capacity."

"Yes," she said closing her eyes. "Severus if things were different do you suppose that you and I could have been more then this?"

"Perhaps," he conceded, "But then if things were different, I doubt very much that we would have had the opportunity, for lack of a better word, to get to know each other at all."

Hermione stood up, and crossed the room to where Severus still reclined on the bed. Reaching out she brushed his hair back behind his ear, and bending down kissed him firmly on the lips, he responded by wrapping his arms around her pulling her closer. Returning the embrace, Hermione moved her head to rest on his shoulder. "Goodbye," she said, and although she'd said it to him before she knew that this time it was for good. The odds that they would both survive the war were slim that it was pointless to hope that in some distant future they could have a life together. 

            They clung to each other for another moment, and then she pulled away leaving the room and pulling the door shut behind her without looking back.

***

            The following day Hermione Apparated back to Malfoy Manor.

**Next Chapter:** Now that Snape is out of the picture Lucius is free to take center stage, and he does, with vengeance. 

**Author's Notes: **This has been a _long_ time coming. I hope the summery at the top help a little after the long wait. And, while I can't promise that chapter twelve will be out sooner, I will try and do my best. 

A special thank you to every one who reviewed, and especially to those who sent me e-mails demanding that I update. Hats off to Alex for editing this for me. Also I am looking for another beta to give each chapter a final check after Alex and I have at it, if anyone is interested please e-mail me: jay_a_are@hotmail.com

  
Thank you, and good day. 


	12. Lucius Malfoy: Entrepreneur or Evil Lack...

Chapter Twelve: Lucius Malfoy: Entrepreneur or Evil Lackey? 

**Disclaimer: **See chapter one.

            Hermione rested her elbows on the stainless steel workbench, staring blankly at the calculations. It was three weeks after her last meeting with Severus, and she had had no contact from Voldemort. She was in her lab at the Ministry trying not to worry about what that could mean, while endeavoring to determine the concentration of an unknown substance she'd been asked to analyze. So far she'd gotten pretty much nowhere. Straightening, she turned to watch her assistant, Travis, clean up the remnants of their last experiment. Shaking her head at the ineffectiveness of it, Hermione glanced at her watch and, mainly because she was starving, decided that it was time for lunch. "Travis," she said, and the young man looked up.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Go for lunch. You can finish when you get back."

He nodded in response, and put down the scrub brush and beaker. Hanging his lab coat on the stand, and wishing Hermione a good lunch herself, he exited through the main doors leading out into the Ministry corridor.

            Hermione smiled at him; all in all she liked this assistant, who would be working with her until December. He was efficient, listened to instruction, followed safety procedures, and was just generally polite, all qualities Hermione found essential in her lab. Although, to be fair, it wasn't really her lab. It was, in fact, the Ministry's seminar and training center. When Hermione had first been offered her position, she had been given the choice between a semi-private smaller lab and the large and newly renovated public lab. After some careful consideration, she'd decided to take the public lab, and had not regretted it since. There were standard seminars twice a year, and occasionally someone would request the lab for a tutorial, but other than that the state of the art showpiece was hers. Her favorite part of the lab was the four small workbenches in the center that allowed for several experiments to be conducted at the same time without fear of cross-contamination. Of course, she also thoroughly enjoyed the large, spacious and comfortable office adjoining the lab, which was twice the size of the standard offices, and only occasionally had to be shared for team meetings.

            Neatly gathering her papers into a folder, Hermione crossed the lab to her office and, upon opening the door, jumped. Draped over her desk chair was Lucius, his feet propped on her desk. 

"I was wondering when you would finish up in there," he drawled, not moving.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, placing her folder on the long project table to her right. "I don't recall giving you the password to my office."

Lucius chuckled, "You didn't. Although, interestingly enough, I don't really have a problem getting into any office here at the Ministry."

Hermione inclined her head. "No, I don't suppose you do," she conceded. "Although, I will say that I don't really appreciate the invasion of privacy."

"Afraid I might find something incriminating?" he asked, his voice all silk. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. She wasn't concerned; any correspondence between her and the Resistance was always burned. "Why are you here anyway?" She changed tack, knowing that there was no appropriate answer. 

"Are you displeased, my dear?" He sounded amused.

"Not exactly. I just wasn't expecting to see you until this evening."

"Yes, well, I thought it might be nice to go for lunch."

"Did you?" Hermione sounded pleased.

"Indeed," he smirked. "And I think you should take the rest of the afternoon off."

"I don't know, Lucius," Hermione bit her lip. "I'm really very busy right now."

Lucius smiled at her, "I thought you might say that, so I took the liberty of _asking_ you superiors to give you the afternoon off."

"And they didn't object?" Hermione was genuinely surprised.  

"I didn't give them much of a choice."

"Oh," Hermione thought about it. "Where do you suggest we go then?"

Lucius smirked, standing up and walking to the office door, "I think you'll like what I have in mind." Lucius extended his arm to Hermione, who crossed the room to take it.

"I have no doubt I will," she said. And the two left the office.

***

            Blinking, Hermione raised her hand to shield her eyes from what could only be the early morning sun. Looking around, she found that luscious green vegetation, and various sweet smelling blossoms surrounded her. To one side was a steep embankment dropping off to a white sandy beach that flowed gently to the turquoise-blue of the ocean. About a hundred yards back from the embankment was a large one-story villa. Its peach clay shingles seemed to shine in the sun. 

A creased formed in Hermione's forehead,  "Where are we?"

"Grand Cayman," Lucius replied. "Pease Bay to be specific."

"Oh?"

"I'm thinking of purchasing the property, and I thought that lunch here might be enjoyable."

Hermione nodded, looking around. "Decided you wanted to do some offshore banking among the Muggles?"

"I'm not terribly inclined to pay taxes on my Muggle investments, my dear."

"That must be why we get along so well," Hermione replied. "Were both hypocrites in our own right."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Touché," he replied drily. "Although I do believe that you would know more about that than I." Lucius eyed her carefully for a moment before smiling, "Now, I do believe it's time for lunch." He gestured toward a gazebo that Hermione had failed to notice before. It was sheltered by several Bougainvillea shrubs their flowers bright purple and white. They reminded Hermione of lilies, only more _tropical_.

            Following Lucius up the steps of the gazebo, she was surprised to find a small table set for two. Surrounded by the aroma of the Bougainvilleas and the fresh ocean air, in this quite little hideaway…it was almost romantic. Sitting down, Hermione smiled, "So what's on the menu?" 

"Some local favorites." As if on cue, two white clad waiters approached the table placing a small plate in front of her. Picking up one of the large pieces of meat, Hermione took a tentative bite, the intense flavor of curry, ginger, and other indistinguishable spices invading her mouth. She liked it. After swallowing a second, bigger bit, she asked, "So, what is this?"

"Jerked shrimp, I do believe," Lucius replied. He also seemed to be enjoying the appetizer. 

"Lucius," Hermione said some time later, after the appetizers had been cleared, "I don't mean to be so forward, but isn't Lord Voldemort a little less then pleased that you do business in the Muggle world?"

"He doesn't seem to mind," Lucius reflected. "Particularly as many of the investments are on his behalf."

Hermione considered, "What kind of investments?"

He shrugged, "Oh, it depends on the market. I have a very competent financial advisor, and, of course, some rather unconventional means of discovering information."

"Yes, I'm sure Obliviate comes in handy," she replied drily, taking a long sip of her Pina Colada. "So that's how the Dark Lord is financing his revolution? Ironic really."

Lucius smirked, "Indeed." 

"I suppose he chooses not to _randomly_ mention this."

"Of course."

Hermione knotted her brow, "So why are you telling me?"

Lucius sighed, "Because our Lord prefers that his strategic advisors be privy to certain details. Besides, I thought you would enjoy the irony."

Her eyes widened. "What?" she cried.

"You know, irony, when something is contrary to what one would expect. Sometimes it's used as a literary device to promote humour–"

"Lucius," Hermione raised her hand to stop him, "you know I wasn't asking about irony. "What do you mean 'strategic advisor?'"

Lucius' smirk only grew bigger.  "Ah yes," he drawled, "last night the senior Death Eaters had a meeting to discuss potential uses for you." Hermione rolled her eyes. "While some of the suggestions where considerably more…lurid than a lady should ever have to hear, it was generally agreed that given your past experience with Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore you should be brought in as a Resistance expert."

Hermione digested this, "I see," she said. "But surely Voldemort realizes that I haven't been on speaking terms with Potter for a very long time. And I certainly haven't been privy to their meetings or intelligence for several years, now. Surely someone like Professor Snape would be much better suited to provide intelligence and perspective on the goings on at Hogwarts."

Lucius inclined his head, "While Severus does provide us with valuable information, he was never close to Mr. Potter, and has he never had a relationship with any members of the staff, including Dumbledore. You, on the other hand, have. And your many years of friendship with Potter give you an insight that no one else has." He smiled at her, "I do believe that you said something to that effect during your first night in my house. You were quite right of course, although I didn't tell you at the time."

Ignoring the last comment, Hermione said instead, "But I don't even have the Dark Mark. Doesn't Lord Voldemort see that as a problem?"

Lucius shook his head, "Apparently he agrees with your suggestion that your gifts would be put to better use as a more or less an objective party. For now, at least."

_'Ah,_ _well that's a relief,'_ she though, and then smiled broadly at Lucius. "This is quite an honour."

"And one that you should not take lightly, my dear," he drawled. "Although I'm sure you'll do well."

Hermione nodded, "So when do we start?"

"Soon." Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I not exactly certain when you'll be summoned," Lucius admitted, "but it should be soon."

            Hermione inclined her head, and then turned her attention to the plate of food she hadn't noticed being placed on the table. This was obviously a wonderful opportunity for her to gather information for Dumbledore and company. No single individual, aside from Voldemort, and possibly Lucius, knew all of the Dark Lord's plans. However, combining the information that she could gather with the information that Severus usually had would allow the Resistance to fill in crucial gaps. All she had to do was get letters to them detailing what she was bound to find out. This would be difficult. Very difficult. '_But of course it's worth the risk,_' a voice deep inside her said; it sounded remarkably like Severus. _'Or is it?'_ came a reply that was not nearly as deep rooted, nor convincing, but sounded eerily like Lucius. _'Of course it is,'_ Hermione snapped at herself, and could have sworn she heard a small Lucius-like chuckle. "Not hungry?" Lucius drawled. Hermione jumped.

"What?" she snapped, slightly breathless.

"You haven't touched you food," Lucius pointed his fork at her plate. Where hers didn't even have a bite out of it, Lucius' was almost empty. "You're either not hungry, or you don't like it. So which is it?"

"Oh, I…uh…I seem to have lost my appetite," Hermione said, smiling, and picking up her fork. "So what are these lovely dishes I see before me?"

"Well, there's white rice, cassava which is similar to a potato, and turtle steak."

Hermione raised her right eyebrow, "Turtle steak?"

"Umm-uh."

Her left brow joined the right, "So is it really from a turtle, or is just called turtle?"

Lucius shrugged, "I'm not entirely sure. It's quite good though."

"I bet," Hermione said drily. There was something about eating a _turtle_ that she found rather distasteful, so she half-heartedly pick at the rice and the cassava, hoping the dessert would be more appealing. Lucius smiled at her obvious displeasure, but said nothing.

"There's something that's been bothering me for a while," Hermione said a few minutes later, after she'd given up trying to eat all together. "When we were at the Ministry earlier, you said that you didn't need a password to get into the offices. That made me wonder, and not for the first time: what exactly do you do?"

Lucius brought his steel blue eyes up to meet hers, "You mean aside from financing a new world order?" Hermione nodded. "Well, I'm a business man, Hermione; I do many things."

"Like what," she pressed.

"I sit on the boards of the companies that I have invested in. And when I'm not in meetings, or having business lunches, I check up on the investments that I've made, and make sure that the companies I'm dealing with are doing what they said they would do." He smiled slightly. "Occasionally, when I'm feeling…pleasant, I donate to _worthy_ charities. Although that was something Narcissa usually handled." Hermione lowered her eyes. "She was a very charitable woman." 

"I have no doubt," Hermione replied softly, still not looking at him. "What happened to her was unfortunate."

"Yes, well," Lucius said, sounding a little too breezy, "Your sympathies are appreciated."

Hermione ventured to look at him, and smiled sadly. "You must miss her terribly," she said.

Again, Lucius met her eyes, and Hermione nearly gasped at the sadness she saw there. "She was my wife, Hermione, of course I miss her." His voice sounded distant.

"That's not what I meant," Hermione reached across the table to cover his hand with hers. 

Lucius raised his eyebrows and snorted, snatching his hand away, "I don't want to talk about this." He stood up, and turned away.

"Alright," she said slowly, watching him as he leaned on the railing of the gazebo, his cloaks falling elegantly around him, and lit a cigarette. "But if you ever decide you want to, talk that is, I would be more than happy to listen."

"Thank you, but it doesn't really concern you," he drawled.

_'Oh, it does more than you think,'_ Hermione thought, standing up to join him. "I didn't know you smoked," she said. 

Lucius shrugged, "I don't normally."

Hermione reached over and took the cigarette from between his long aristocratic figures. "I don't either," she said, taking a drag.

"Why the change of heart?"

_'I helped kill you're wife.'_ Hermione opted to shrug instead, handing him back the smoke. "I doubt it will be a permanent change."  

"Good," he took a drag himself, and then, dropping the cigarette, he pulled Hermione to him. His lips captured hers, blowing the smoke into her lungs. She tried to pull away, but he would not let her, his tongue savagely invading her mouth. Hermione, left with no other choice, allowed herself to surrender. She felt like she was suffocating. The combination of the smoke and the suddenness of what was happening, and, truth be told, the kiss itself, were making it hard to breathe. 

            As suddenly as it had begun, Lucius pulled away, clutching his arm. Hermione pulled back, inhaling sharply and causing herself to choke. It was a moment before she could breath normally, and it was then that she noticed that Lucius was rubbing his left forearm, watching her. "It's time," he said, grabbing her hand. Apparently, 'soon' really did mean _soon_.

***

Next Chapter: Voldemort, strategic planning, and Lucius visits Hermione's flat. 

Author's Notes: There, see, that was much quicker then the last installment. Go me. A shout out to all who reviewed, as always the enthusiasm just makes my day. Thank you to Alex for being a sounding board and beta. And a special thank you to Tania, my new beta. She's very, very thorough. And the chapter title is hers. 


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